


In Contrast

by MikeWritesThings (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Captivity, Character Death, EriSol - Freeform, F/F, F/M, GamTav - Freeform, Karkat Hates Himself, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor John Egbert/Dave Strider, Minor Sollux Captor/Karkat Vantas, Occasional Rose POV, POV Dave Strider, POV Karkat Vantas, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Resentment, Roxy Is Queen, Roxy is probably the best character in this book, Yaoi, Yuri, davekat - Freeform, rosemary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 43,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MikeWritesThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are a mutant, a freak of nature with red blood, which is frowned upon. You have been safe for many sweeps, but now your eyes have betrayed your blood color and you have beem practically exiled onto an alien planet. It's a suicidal mission that only your superiors know about, and not one of your friends do.</p><p>You are captured and taken into captivity, where you are tortured for information and studied like a caged animal because your species is alien to these...To these humans. These awful humans with their needles and weapons of torture, trying to hear you scream and decipher a language out of it, to see how you react to blood of animals.</p><p>Eventually one of your friends hears of your capture and gathers a rescue team, but you have fallen for one of the humans there. </p><p>Now your friends don't trust you either. You have affiliated yourself with the humans who have tortured you, and they don't know if you are a friend or an enemy. Everything is so mixed up and screwed that you feel like vomiting your own blood.</p><p>((EDIT:: Most recent chapter removed, fic is COMPLETE.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This book will contain several triggers (Kankri: #TRIGGERED) and it feels only right to warn you about them.
> 
> There will, of course, be torture. Physical and psychological, as the humans feel the need to examine the trolls for they have never really seen such creatures. You guess it's only natural of humans to do so, anyways. You would probably do the same thing if a pink hairless ape wandered onto your planet.
> 
> You suppose you should warn the readers about depressive things. This is your story, obviously, and you know it like the back of your hand. Hell, your living it yourself as you speak, so of course you know this story is going to contain some form of depression. You've been practically exiled, for crying out loud.
> 
> You should also probably mention that there will be Yaoi, though you are unfamiliar for what the term is. Maybe Nepeta could tell the readers better than you can? Whatever. All you know is that the Strider kid is pretty hot. And nice enough. Which leads you to your next warning: Yuri. You guess it's basically the same thing, yet you are still wary of these human terms. If Yaoi is you and that Strider kid, than you guess Yuri is Kanaya and the Lalonde girl.
> 
> You will also warn the reader that this contains a lot of blood and gore. Well, it contained a lot of blood and gore on your behalf, anyways. For crying out loud, you were strapped to a table and poked with needles. There will be blood.
> 
> There will also be some of this alcohol that the Strider kids steals, and obviously Gamzee is going to be high, so you should say something about that too. But is that really any big news? You don't think so.
> 
> There will also be swearing. Of course there will be swearing! You are you, and Gamzee is Gamzee, and the Striders are the freaking Striders. Homestuck is Homestuck. There will be swearing.
> 
> You think that's pretty much it for all the warnings. Ah, wait a second, Nepeta has just given you a list of things to also inform the readers about. You examine with caution. The last thing she had given you is a piece of paper called her shipping chart, and your brain has yet to recover from that experience.
> 
> This story will contain DaveKat, RoseMary, DirkJake, GamTav, and a bunch of other alien terms that you are unaware of the meaning of. You better be getting paid for this, because reading these terms alone are pretty ridiculous. In fact, you crumple up the paper in toss it in the recycling bin. There's only one place where that stuff goes.
> 
> At this point you are pretty sure that the reader just wants to read the story by now and is pretty fed-up with your warnings, but you decide to be a bigger jerk and postpone the story just a little longer because you're the narrator and you can do stuff like that. Hell yeah. Eat that, Terezi. Sadly though Terezi keeps telling you your red blood color is delicious. You decide you really need new friends.
> 
> You are now running out of characters in these notes, and you are wondering what else you can say to be a jerk and postpone the actual story. In fact, you are pretty sure you don't even want to tell the story. It is a painful story, after all.
> 
> But now that crazy guy, Mike, is storming in on you. He threatens that you better tell your story perfectly word for word or he will spill your mutant blood all over the ground. You really hate this guy. For an olive blood, he sure is pushy.
> 
> So you guess you might as well get on with the story. It's not like you really have a choice at this point, anyways. Also, Terezi will be informing the readers from now on with specific warnings in specific chapters.
> 
> And here your story begins.

_Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else._

**"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."**

-Unknown

* * *

You are pretty sure they sent you on this suicidal mission because of your blood.

You are stuck in the middle of the woods, which were surprisingly a lot like the ones back at home, and similar to the ones on your friend Terezi’s planet. The only thing you have is a backpack in your hands that may or may not actually contain something useful. You haven’t opened it yet, because Sollux had said it was for emergencies only. Your lip curls into a sneer. Oh great, now you're listening to Sollux of all people. Just what has your life come to?

You can probably answer this question easily. Your life has come to an absolute stop ever since your eyes started betraying your blood color. You could have always lied and said it had something to do with your pigments never filling in properly, but before you could so much as speak someone had already taken your hand and cut it with his knife, revealing the mutant bright red color. It wasn’t a muddier shade like Aradia’s, but very bright.

Your own blood betrayed you. Literally.

Soon you were being looked at differently, treated differently. Vriska, of course, teased you endlessly, and Terezi kept going on about how delicious red was. You still don’t get how she can taste colors. It is alone a mystery how she even types if she can not even see the keys. Gamzee more or less treated you the same, but you are pretty sure he has stopped talking to you as much he used to due to their superiors not allowing him to. Equius, of course, was reveling at how a lowblood like yourself had managed to lead them. Nepeta is not allowed near you anymore.

Sollux and Eridan still treat you the same, and you are a hundred percent sure Feferi is treating you with utmost pity. Kanaya acts forcibly optimistic and Tavros stutters around you even more than usual. You are sure they all think your blood is a contagious disease they would catch soon, that your mutant colors will change their own blood. Feferi and Eridan and Gamzee are perfectly safe with their practically royal blood colors, and scum such as yourself and Aradia and Tavros and Sollux are on the bad end of the stick. Nepeta is okay with her blood color, Kanaya of course has her rare blood color which makes her special, apparently, and everyone else is better off.

And then there’s you. Your blood color was practically unheard of. So unheard of, in fact, that everyone around you instantly assumed you were a failed project, a mutation of a lower class, a disease. If everybody wasn’t already laughing at you before because of your tendency to yell and scream insults that nobody really believed and your sort-of-leader-complex, than they were most certainly laughing at you now, jeering, taunting you for the color of your blood.

At least Aradia and Sollux and Tavros had psychic abilities. You are simply just a mutant, with no special abilities whatsoever, except your obsession with romance novels and movies. Which, by the way, might be the only thing about you people might take seriously. At least, you’ve been asked for advice about relationships before. Of course, you’ve never really been in an actual relationship. Gamzee, your former Moirail, wasn’t really holding up his end, and every flushed relationship you have had is broken up. Your caliginous feelings have, of course, been rejected, and you have yet to have an ashen relationship. But ashen relationships were always so difficult, you were certain you would never get into one.

But enough about random romantic crap, back to your suicidal mission.

Your goal is to learn as much as you can about this species, but you have almost absolutely nothing to go on, and you are sure they gave you so little information on purpose. But what is the purpose of this mission? To kill you, of course. This is your exile. This makes you half-sad and half angry, but you suppose there is nothing you can do about it now. You are angry all the time, anyways. But for now all you can do is look for a place to rest, because man you are tired and hungry.

You then begin to wonder if whatever is in the pack is food, but you doubt it. If Sollux was only allowed to give you one item to help, it would most certainly not be food, most likely a weapon of some sorts. But what? Perhaps one of your sickles. Yes, that would make the most sense. Who knew how dangerous the humans could be?

You don't even know their blood colors or it they have rankings, but if they are like anyplace else, they most certainly do. You have half a mind to see if there is any way you can return home and defy your superiors. You can be an outlaw and live off slime like Gamzee does. Except Gamzee isn't an outlaw, he just does that for fun. You will never understand that guy.

But when you notice a flurry of movement to your left, you freeze. Cautiously, you take a few steps forward. You don't know who could possibly be waiting there. Perhaps a human, or maybe some of the animal creatures you had seen lurking around the corners. Either way, you want to find out rather than just continue walking without investigating. You rub your sweaty palms against your shirt and peer into the bushes, but something suddenly leaps out and you yelp and scramble backwards. You are on your bottom and scrambling backwards as a gun points in your face, and all around, the bushes rustle and two more hairless apes come out of hiding.

You are surrounded.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 DON'T TH1NK TH1S CH4PT3R W1LL H4V3 4NYTH1NG B4D 1N 1T. 4T L34ST, 1T SHOULDN'T. OH W41T, NOW YOU R3M3B3R. TH3R3 W1LL B3 4 L1TTL3 BLOOD! H3H3H3H3H3!!! >:]
> 
> OH Y34H, TH4T DOUCHB4G M1K3 S4YS TH4T H3 R34LLY IS CONFUS3D BY THE WHOLE ROS3-1S-H3R-MOM'S-MOM-4ND-V1C3-V3RS4-TH1NG, SO ROXY 4ND ROS3'S MOM 4ND SH1T L1K3 TH4T.

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

Honestly, when you approach the alien, you feel like you should be terrified.

It’s skin is gray and it’s hair is wild and black, and it still has the same weird horns that every other alien has had. It’s wearing a black sort of turtleneck….On closer inspection, it’s a hoodie. It’s wearing a loose black turtleneck, gray pants. There is a gray Cancer symbol on it’s hoodie, but why, you don’t know. Not even Rose or Roxy makes a guess.

Yet this one is kind of pathetic. Yes, it still has the sharp teeth poking over it’s lips and the large yellow eyes with it’s pupils dilated like a cat (but this is the first alien you have seen with red eyes, however) and the sharp yellow nails. They wouldn’t tear someone to shreds but they were pretty sharp. And yet….It was small. Shorter than Dave, and only taller than Rose by a few bare centimeters. It was skinny and it had darker circles under it’s eyes, though the circles seemed to be tinted red.

It’s making odd noises, halfway between growls and what sounds like clicking. Yet, despite how intimidating the sound was (you don’t let on how intimidated you are, though. That’s how badass you are.) you don’t feel even remotely cautious of the actual alien itself. Though you still wonder why you are referring to them as aliens when these things share basically the same exact anatomy as humans, minus and plus a few things. They were also very intelligent too, something Roxy really wanted to get a good look at, to be able to study.

You thought it was obvious at once that the aliens contained intelligence like yours the moment you bro catched one. It had been a female (it had a larger chest and longer hair, anyways) with a raggedy blue dress and some weird symbol none of them had seen before on her chest. You knew at once it bore intelligence like humans. For one, it was holding a stolen gun and was correctly holding it. Two, it was wearing clothes from it’s own planet. Granted, it may be made of a different material (Roxy is still trying to figure out what) but they are still clothes and it seems that the aliens have similar cultures to humans.

You only know all this crap because of how many times Rose has tried to explain it to John. The four friends, Dirk, Roxy, Jane, Jake, Harley, and basically all their families, plus a lot more people, lived at the base you were in, though you, John, Rose, and Jade were the only kids. You were all trusted enough to go out on your own alone but only you and Rose were trusted with weapons. Of course Jade managed to sneak a rifle from her grandfather, which, whatever, you won't call her out on it. That would be uncool.

The alien (seems pretty male now that you get a closer look at it) is wriggling on the ground, scooting backwards. It's eyes are fixed on the gun Jade is pointing in it's face, before it makes another clicking noise. The next thing any of you know the alien has shoved the gun away and yanked it out of Jade's hands and tossed it aside. It's sprinting away and you take a moment to recover yourself from the shock of it's sudden movement before you go running after it as well. Jade is cursing behind you as she looks at the gun-it's got a scratch in it from the alien's nails. Her grandfather would surely notice that. You and Rose are already halfway to the alien.

The alien is actually, surprisingly pretty fast. The others were all fast as well but this one is determined. It's smaller size gives it an advantage, as well. You and Rose both split into different directions just as practiced to try and cut it off at the same time, or perhaps corner it near the cliff. You don't really know, you don't know these woods like Jake and Jade do. It doesn't help your in fucking D.C., away from your home and where it's rainy and shit. You're used to the sun, and the looming clouds overhead look threatening. Well, that might be a good thing. It could slow down the alien. By this point you're pretty used to running in the rain.

The alien still has backpack in hand though it looks like he is opening it. You feel something a bit like dread poke at the pit of your stomach but you don't show it. What could the alien be pulling out? Some sort of torture device? A bomb? A weapon of some sorts? It pulls out a sort of....Cellphone-like device, only larger and looks at it. For a few seconds it slows down, then gives something that sounds like a growl and shriek at the same time before throwing it at the ground. You freeze, expecting it to blw up, but instead it bounces away uselessly. Huh.

The alien looks really pissed at this point but it's getting too far ahead of you for your liking, so you speed up until you are full-out sprinting. It would be a lot better if you weren't holding your sword but fuck it. Your main goal is to catch this alien, dead or alive. Jade is already behind you and taking aim, and you move out of the way. But there's something about this one...It just looks too human for your liking. And better yet (worse, actually) it looks to be about your age. At least it looks young, younger than every other thing that gets sent here. But you all have your orders, and that is to kill it. You are on the brink of war, after all. They had been recieving ominous messages from an ominous race and just last month they bombed London and New York simultaneously. Now, your Bro and all of the other adults back in the lab are getting pretty worked up and tensed like motherfucking coils.

_BANG._

Jade has fired at the back of the alien's figure and it hits the small of it's back. It stumbles before staggering to the left and running as fast as it can despite it's injury. You're actually kind of impressed it can still run with a wound like that. Jade suddenly goes down, and when you turn your head around you see her foot is snagged panifully on a jutting root from a tree. Shit, it looks broken. You pause to help but Jade yells at you to find the alien. You nod and begin running again, but by now the alien is out of sight.

By now you are really sweaty and your muscles are kind of aching from having to dodge this shit. You've been running for at least ten minutes now, and only seeing glimpses and flashes of the alien way up ahead. It seems to be slowing down a little, at least, but whenever you lose sight of it you feel like you are just running aimlessly. A horrible sinking feeling comes into your gut and you almost stop running. What if it's leading you straight into a trap? What if it's friends are waiting to ambush you and kill you? As some sort of message to your Bro or something? This is an awful thought gthat you push into the corner of your mind. Man, you don't have any fucking time to be thinking about this shit. You've got an alien to catch, and, ultimately, to slaughter.

But you never thought of it like that before. Slaughter. Like slaughtering cows and pigs to make hamburgers and all that good stuff, nobody really stops to think about it anymore. These days it's you eat whatever and you be grateful for it.

There is suddenly a surprisingly human-like scream up ahead and something loud crashes. The ground shakes slightly and you stumble as birds abandon their nests up ahead and take flight. You almost dropped your sword a little ways back and now you tighten your grip around it as you continue running ahead. You're running, closing in on the alien, and your eyes are narrowed in focus at where you last saw it. You feel yourself closing in on it, you raise your sword, and-

And you come to a complete halt as you come to the edge of a drop, and fifteen or twenty feet below lies the alien, on it's stomach and breathing heavily, red blood soaking it's back and the ground around him. You pause-This was very different. You've seen aliens with blue blood, burgandy blood, green blood, but never red like this. It was very similar to your own blood. In fact, it looked like an exact replica of it.

The drop off isn't steep, but judging by how fast the alien was running it had suddenly plummeted to the ground. You could probably slide down easily and at the most achieve a few scratches and brusies. You slide down the drop with caution and nearly fall face-forward onto the ground, but luckily your reflexes save you from that. You walk up to the alien, sword at your side. It really is a pitiful thing, on closer inspection. It's hair is wild, concealing it's face, but there seems to be red coming out of it's mouth as well. It's shivering and making that weird clicking noise again, and as you step forward it glances at you. It's eyes are red and the pupils are dilated like a cat's. When it sees the sword in your hand, it's body, which had been tense and quivering before, seems to slump in defeat.

You pity it. You feel bad for the way it has given up already, accepted it's fate, and it's eyes begin to close. It looks really fucking exhausted, actually, and the next thing you know the thing is out cold. You raise your sword to kill it, yet you hesitate. To this day you are not sure why you hesitated. After a moment, you set your sword down and lower yourself to your knees, examining the alien.

If it was human like you, it would probably be fifteen or sixteen. It had really dark circles under it's eyes and looked starved and dehydrated. You then wonder if they need water to survive like you or a different substance. There's so many things you will never get to know about the alien race it's actually kind of sad. You draw your knees to your chest and stare at the alien.

You wouldn't be able to forgive yourself for killing it. It looks too much like a teenager, too much like a human, that you could never kill it. Not unless it was attacking you. But taking it out while it was down like this just seemed really wrong. You're not sure how long you had been sitting there, but Rose's voice was soon calling "DAVE!" and she was at your side.

Roxy was there as well and was smiling at Dave, and seemed absolutely excited to be seeing an alien up close. She knelt beside it and said,

"Wow. And it has red blood too!"

She reached out a finger and prodded it's cheek, and the alien made a clicking noise, yet it's eyes remained close. Both Rose and Roxy leaped backward in terror and shock. Rose stared at it before sputtering,

"You d-didn't kill it?!"

"I...." You don't really know how to explain yourself. You had shown weakness, and how could you make that up? But Roxy looked absolutely excited and was bouncing up and down and jittering something about always wanting to examine an alive test subject. She had already pulled out her communications device, but before either of you knew it, old man Harley and Dirk were there. You turn your head and see Dirk standing there with his arms crossed and glaring down at the alien with dislike. You feel bad when his gaze shifts to you, and you feel as if you let him down by not killing it.

"How come you didn't-..." The alien made another clicking noise, and the older man stared at it for a few minutes. Then, without saying anything else, he nodded to Dirk. Dirk and a few others bound the alien's arms, legs, ankles, and wrists together before carrying it back to the lab. You are confused as to why, and Roxy begs Harley to let her examine it, but he shrugs her off. The hard look in Dirk's face makes you feel uneasy, and you suddenly have a very bad feeling. Rose glances at you before saying,

"We can talk about this later. Where's Jade?"

_Oops._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~arsenicCatnip began trolling ao3 reader~
> 
> :33


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, 1 R34LLY DON'T L1K3 TH1S CH4PTER. 4T 4LL. C4N W3 SK1P TH1S CH4PTER? 1 DON'T W4NT TO B3 R34D1NG 4BOUT ON3 OF MY FR13NDS G3TT1NG TORTUR3D.
> 
> UGGGGHHHH F1NNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
> 
> H4V3 1T YOUR W4Y!
> 
> W3LL, 4CTU4LLY, TH1S CH4PT3R 1SN'T 4S B4D 4S OTH3RS....WH4T3V3R!

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You're terrified. You're shaking and quivering and shivering and you're sure the humans holding you can feel it. You're sure they're going to do something awful to you because your hands and feet are bound together and your back hurts sooooo much. You're going to die of blood loss pretty soon if it doesn't get treated, and get treated now. The humans all seem to have eyes similar to your own, but they are cold and glaring down upon you. You pass through metal doors armed with heavy security and you know for sure this was _definitely_ a suicide mission, but at the moment you can hardly breathe. You can only concentrate on your vision blackening at the edges and your ears are ringing. When the humans speak, it sounds like a bunch of nonsense, and it feels like your hearing them from under water.

You feel your chest rumble with a growl that was unintended. You only do it when you're this terrified. The growl grows louder and another noise, this time more like clicking, erupts and you open your mouth to scream when something sharp pokes your neck and presses into your skin. Your scream must terrify them because they shout and leap backwards, eyes wide, and their eyes harden again. You can hardly focus on them. You can only focus on the throbbing pain in your lower back and now, your neck. They are holding what looks like a....You try to think of the human name for it. A syringe? It is full of blue liquid.

They come at you again, but this time you are too tired to scream or even tense up when they press the needle into you again, except for the involuntary growling and clicking. You can't control that. It's almost like shivering for humans, you suppose. You'd only read what little information your superiors had gathered on them, including patters on human speech-Way too many vowels, breathy sounds, and they could change the pitch of their tones with ease.

You don't have time to think about that, however, for right now you're fighting to stay conscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That sounded like..." John says with a judging look in his eye, and you too stare at the alien writhing slightly on the metal table. Your own skin prickles just thinking about what the cold metal would feel like. It's in pain, and it's face is twisting slightly. A few seconds ago it had let out what sounded like a scream.

"It sounded like maybe a panther, or a tiger," You say pushing your shades up your nose farther and staring down as indifferently as you could, "More like a human kid trying to growl-scream like a giant fighting cat. Rowr."

"Mrooowr," John growled back in his best imitation. You look at him and he narrows his eyes in a challenge.

"Raaaaaaaaaawwwrrrr," You hiss, and he crosses his arms, inhales a lung-full of air, and growls,

"MRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWR!"

You give him the finger as you growl louder and he growls back, matching your pitch. A second later you're both cat-fighting, and Rose sits behind you with an expression that reads 'for the love of Christ I'm surrounded by idiots.' Jade was currently in the infirmary getting her ankle checked by Doc, which was what they all called Rose and Roxy's mom. Rose seemed disapproving of your shenanigans but you could care less.

"Look guys," She says after a minute of letting the two of you fight. You both turn your attention to her, then to the electronic in her hands. It was the same electronic the alien had used earlier, the one that looked like a mobile phone, only bigger. She turned it on with three taps on the screen and it lit up. You both lean forward and stare at the writing written on it in a completely different language using all sorts of symbols you don't know about. But the good news was, Doc and Harley could probably translate this-They had managed to get another alien in captivity long enough to transcribe an alphabetical system that worked almost like your alphabet, but with no punctuation and fewer vowels. A lot of the words were stuff like 'frnd' and 'fncy' which you had to figure out the meaning of by filling in the spaces of the vowels, but you and John haven't gotten the hang of it yet.

"So...What is it?" John voices your question after a moment of staring. Rose frowns and taps on a few of the letters, and a new window opens up. It works strangely similar to human cellphones. There it seems like different chats with different people, all with different colored text. She clicks on one with purple text and frowns.

"Hm?" You hum, quirking an eyebrow at her confusion. She squints at the screen before saying,

"I can't tell much, but this user seems to use double 'w's and 'v's whenever a word has one."

You and John exchange looks and say at the same time, "So?"

"So," Rose says with a roll of her eyes, "Does it do it on purpose or does it do it as like a typing quirk or to be cool or what?"

You snatch it from her hands and scroll through it, identifying maybe eleven or twelve other chats on it, maybe a couple more. They all have different colored text and seem to have a weird speech. You know the difference between the capital and lower letters of their alphabet and one user seemed to alternate between them LiKe ThIs. Another seemed to have a reverse-capitalization thing, and one speech catches your eye. It seems to be...

"Human numerals?" Rose notices it at the same time you do. There's a peculiar mixture of their alphabet and human numbers mixed together in a shade of what looks like teal-colored speech. You wish you could read and identify it, but at that moment you hear someone clear their throat and all three of you look up to see Dirk standing there with his arms crossed and staring at Dave behind his own pair of shades. You know what's coming.

You didn't kill the alien, and you're in serious trouble now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half of you wants to come back to consciousness, and the other half wants you to stay out like a light, where you feel it is almost safer. But you are drifting somewhere between, conscious enough to feel the pain but not awake enough to move much or make any noise. Half of you hopes your friends are on a rescue mission for you, but the other half, the realistic half, knows this is untrue. This as unrealistic as Nepeta suddenly turning evil or as Eridan to stop being a jerk.

There's something hot running across your chest and it leaves it searing in fiery pain. You can feel the cuts opening up and you feel them dissecting your stomach. You know they are cutting you open like a frog and examining your insides. You know they have sharp instruments ready to cut your skin, ready to dice you up like meat.

You _are_ meat. You are nothing but a tool now, a sacrifice, some sort of lab rat that will be tested on until your limits break and you die or your sanity dies. Whichever comes first. You feel your fingers curl into your palm and you are nearly jerked awake as they poke at something vital. They have not cut open your chest but are viewing your stomach. Maybe to see your anatomy or to view what you eat, you aren't sure. But you are sure you're going to die.

Why they didn't experiment on you while awake so you could experience the most pain, you don't know. What you do know, however, is that you can slowly feel the pain becoming more and more real and more and more searing. In fact-

Suddenly you are blinded by bright white lights hanging above you and people are crowded around you, your arms and legs splayed and cuffed to the table so you wouldn't squirm. You only lift your head a little and shooting pain fires everywhere through your body and you twitch violently, and the moment they straighten up and you get a good look on your guts nearly spilling out of your stomach in a pool of disgusting red mess you scream so loudly you are sure your vocal cords are shredded beyond repair at this point.

Make it stop make it stop please go away what did you ever do to deserve this put you right don't leave your stomach cut open like that don't keep you lying on this freezing metal surface don't don't don't-

You're screaming and you're writhing and there are white spots dancing in front of your eyes as they abandon their sharp tools in a clear basin of water and shout something you still can't understand. Human seems like a fairly easy language to learn but right now you feel like you're fighting to stay alive.

But then again, on this planet, when aren't you?

And as they plunge the needle back into your skin and the world seems to fade out into blackness, as you feel like you are soaring ever higher, you suddenly feel like you flew too high and your chest expands as you scream again The humans seem amused by our screams. It's just a natural reflex of pain, you guess. Screaming. It's an odd thing to think about now, lying on an operating table and covered in your own insides, but now, you realize screaming is involuntary too. It signifies your pain. It let's them _know_ you're in pain.

You make a promise to yourself as you slowly drift out of line, into a deep visage of sleep, that you will never let them hear you scream again. You will never let them hear you in pain again.

But oh, _if only the light would shut up and your head stop pounding._

 


	4. Chapter Four

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You really feel like throwing up, and in minutes, before you realize it, you’re kneeling in front of the toilet, head bowed over the bowl and coughing up the remains of your pizza lunch.Dirk had given you a what-for, a serious talking-to, a smack on the upside of the head. You feel like that’s less than you deserve but you can’t focus on that right now, for when you walked back to join John and Rose viewing the alien you had discovered your friends were gone and the alien had his fucking guts spilled over a table. That’s just fucking sick, man.

But it’s not like you get any say in it. No. You would rather not. That way you wouldn’t feel guilty whenever you picture that screaming alien on the table, because you know this was your decision. You didn’t kill the alien. But now you wish you did, because it shouldn’t be put through that. It was just too human, way too much like yourselves, nearly the same exact anatomy as far as you could see.

The alien was just a teenager, you’re sure of it.

You are suddenly jolted back to your senses as someone pounds on the door, calling for him to come quickly. You make an incoherent sound to signify your unwellness, to hint that you would rather not get up from your position for a little bit, but the pounding becomes more urgent and demanding. With a final spit you get to your feet and wipe your mouth on a spare towel. Entering the hallway and Jane is already grabbing your upper arm, pulling you away as she talks excitedly and you can hardly hear a word she’s saying. Your ears are stilling ringing.

When she finally pushes you into the control room, and you see blinking lights, you know at once something important has happened. Old man Harley has the troll’s sort of cellphone/PDA thingy hooked up to the main software and there was a translation on the screen rapidly flipping through pages and lines of code so fast it’s a blur and you occasionally see a glimpse of a picture.

“What’s going on?” You ask, and Jane slows down her talking to say,

“The radio transmitter inside the data software picked up on the inner calculations of the alien’s communications device by using the intergalactical beam satellite to-”

“Speak fuckin’ English, please.”

“Sorry. Somebody’s trying to text the alien and we received a signal of it and we’re translating it.”

“Much better.”

The screen was slowly loading, starting at the top and working it’s way to the bottom as green lines randomly traced through. It was mostly an English alphabet, but occasionally here and there was the alien alphabet that a green line would erase and the number would either automatically correct itself or it would flip between two numbers. It usually only happened to vowels, however.

A split second later, the full message was translated into a green text:

GA: Karkat, We Are Beginning To Worry If You Are Okay. Please Contact Us Immediately, But Don’t Contact The Main Base-We Are Being Forbidden From Asking You About Or Asking Where You Are. However, Fuck The Rules. Are You Even Alive? We Need To Know. Something Odd Is Happening And We Haven’t Heard From You In Forever. Contact At Once.

“Who’s… ?” You ask, staring at the jade green text displayed on the screen. “And I’m assuming ‘Karkat’ is the name of the alien.”

“Heh. Beep beep meow.”

“Shut up, Egbert.”

“But what does this all mean? What mission?” Jane speaks up, turning her head to look at Harley. He gives a shrug before muttering something in a low voice that nobody else hears. You glance at John, who shrugs as well and turns to leave. There’s nothing else to see hear.

You would have expected a message from an alien to another to be more...You don’t know the word for it, actually. More like “have you conquered the foolish mortals yet?”

You catch the eye of your bro, who is standing guard near the door, and you feel an uncomfortable prickle. You feel like you have just betrayed him by just thinking those thoughts earlier of how guilty you felt about the tortured alien.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you awaken, you’re in the tiniest of rooms possible, still strapped down to a table, and have shooting pains in your legs. You would crane your neck upwards to get a look at them but your shoulders and neck are extremely sore and the flesh at the base of your neck feels raw. You wriggle your fingers for a moment, because they feel cold and you can barely move them. ext you work on trying to shift your body even just slightly, but it’s too sore.

You let out your instinctive clicks of discomfort and a second later the lights above flash white and blare down upon you as someone calls loudly, a language you still can’t understand. Too much lifting and bringing down of their voices, too many movements of their mouths, too many syllables.

You release an involuntary hiss and attempt to raise your arms to your face to shield your eyes, but your wrists are strapped and all you achieve is pain as the rough bonds tighten over the thin flesh. You wiggle around as they surround you and begin to unbound you, and for a glorious, and yet foolish second, you believe they are freeing you.

But they force you to sit up and bind your hand together again, though this time, instead of rough material, the bonds are made of metal. You squirm as the coldness of them touches your raw skin but they push you to your feet and two on either side of you stand guard, a hand on each of your shoulders, grips firm and yet slightly fearful, as if they don’t want to be touching you. Your pants and shirt are back on and you feel a tiny bit relieved for this, but then fear makes your stomach drop as they steer you towards the doorway.

Are they going to execute you? What kind of execution did these creatures have? Hanging? Being ripped in half? Having your spine ripped out through your mouth? With each gruesome thought you feel a shiver run through your spine and on instinct you start clicking. However, not a second later one squeezed your shoulder so tightly that you let out a high-pitched whine and the clicking stopped.

The rooms you pass have large windows, and in a few of these rooms, what you see frightens you. Men and women moving about, and some look like they are doing weapons training. Most of them ignore you, but a few pause and stare. Their eyes are intimidating and they are so much taller than you you think you could faint. Even Gamzee and Equius, the tallest people you know back home, would barely reach their chests.

You see a lot of blue and jaded green eyes, and one even looks at you with tinges of purple. You are surrounded by higher bloods, and it’s making you feel nervous, your skin crawling, and you know they know of your mutant red candy color. And that’s probably why you’re going to die.

You think, for the millionth time it seems, how your blood has betrayed you. How, no matter the situation, in the end, it seemed, you would always die, because of your blood color. But you can’t decide which is worth-Being killed by these aliens or being killed by your own kind. The trolls weren’t necessarily civilized, but they weren’t completely heartless and cold, killing machines. You know they would never dissect one another, that’s for sure.

The humans make a series of noises behind you, and you attempt to figure out what they are saying, but the language is too hard for you to properly get a grasp on. You can, however, make out the tones, and they sound rather serious. You wonder if you are in a science lab or a military base. Possibly both? But, either one, sounds horrible. You’re going to die. So why are you thinking of ridiculous things?

Then you pass by another window, and your attention is averted. The room is large and white, with rows of what you assume are nests of some sort, however, they look rather uncomfortable. A few aliens occupy them, but one in particular is surrounded by three others. You assume two are female by their longer hair and the other two are male. Strangely, two of them have yellow-ish hair, and the other two have normal black hair. You wonder how the hell that's possible.

The female lying in bed has lime green eyes, which surprises you a little. But you guess other planets must still have lime-bloods around. The other female, with the strange hair, has purple eyes that remind you vaguely of Feferi. Oh shit...There was royalty here. And it seemed like land-dwelling royalty. That was....Unheard of.

The dark haired male had blue eyes that you couldn't determine the exact shade of, but you suppose they are like Vriska's. Great. More bluebloods.

 

Their eyes are all upon you, and you realize they are not nearly as tall as the others. You realize they must be grubs.

The final male catches your attention-He has pale flesh and that strange light hair that makes you wonder if it's kind of like Eridan's hair, who's stripe was the color of his blood. Was that yellow color a blood type here? But what caught your attention was that his eyes were covered in dark shades. You stare for a second before they shove you roughly, steering you down the hall forcefully and a bit painfully.

You wonder what color his eyes are.

 


	5. Chapter Five

_There's a bug in my computer that is posting the same exact end note for every chapter either know I don't want it too D': I'm trying to fix it, but I don't if it will work! Please read and review exactly what you think of the story and maybe any advice, because it sure helps and gets me through these tough times and inspires me through writing X'3. Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and reviews, it really helps. :D_

_-Mike_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

They shuffle you into a room that is warmer than the last and yet it still gives off an unforgiving air, a cold, stale air as if everybody that has ever come into this room and has never made it out. It sends even more shivers down your spine when you see a taller woman standing in front of you, who appears to be smiling at you, but with the way her teeth are showing in her smile you can’t help but think of a predatory animal. She has the same light, strange-colored hair and has those same eyes as the girl from before, but you realize they are exactly Feferi’s color-She was the queen. She was royalty.

You realize how royally fucked up you are, if you are here to see the queen. If the queen herself is viewing something like you...You are definitely not going to die. No. Even worse. You’re going to be drilled for information. And what happens once they find out that you have almost no information? That you’re just as clueless as they are? That you were sent here on a suicidal mission that was supposed to have no point of return?

She’s warbling something at him, and in your fear and as a natural defense mechanism you let out the beginnings of a hiss. The guards take a single step towards you and nearly jump a foot in the air in fear, and the queen holds up one hand, glaring at the guards and saying something. The tone in her voice has turned harsh, but when she turns back to him it’s kind again, almost as if in the purr of a mother grub. You allow yourself to relax only a tiniest bit, but you can still hear the hiss at the back of your throat, feel it rumbling.

She reaches a pale hand out, and you flinch, teeth baring. The guards jerk forward once again and she raises her voice almost to a shout, giving them venomous looks. You feel confusion. Are you only hers to touch? Is only she allowed to grill you for information? Does she believe it is only the kind of information that the queen herself, and only herself, should know? Her tone is lowered again to that same comforting drawl, and yet now you feel highly on guard.

When she steps closer you try not to flinch, you try not to do anything. She continues to speak to you, her voice slow and clear, but you don’t understand a word of it. However, after hearing their chattering for so long, you start making something out in the slur of noise. You realize the words they are forming are separate, not a longer sound with pitched highs and ups, but rather a series of words that don’t usually involve growling or hissing, and as far as you can tell, absolutely no chirping or clicking.

Well, it wasn’t everything you need, but it’s a start at understanding human language. If you can understand human language, and if the queen is as...Easygoing as she seems (though you highly doubt that) you might be able to do a negotiation of some sorts. The plan, however, is idiotic, even you know that, and the tickle at the back of your mind for thinking for half a second you might have achieved something faded into nothingness.

You let out a click, and two chirps before opening your mouth to communicate, but she just stares at you confusedly, and you close your mouth, rethinking your plan. Do they even understand your language? If they do, why are they not speaking it? Unless it was too hard for them to replicate the noises because perhaps their lungs were weaker, but if they do understand you, perhaps you can negotiate like this. Perhaps they do understand you. It was worth a shot, at least.

“I don’t know much, but please leave my friends alone, I will tell you everything I do know,” You say. You are half hoping that your friends are looking for you, but at the same time, you wish not. If they were to arrive onto this planet, they would definitely be put through the same thing you did. You couldn’t bear the thought of them going through the same thing you did, being sliced up on a table.

You can only hope they hate you and hid their disgust with you. Your heart clenches as this thought and your brain almost goes into overdrive with emotion, but you are hoping that they secretly hate you and won’t go looking for you. You are hoping they will forget all about you and leave you be. And, now that you think about it, why wouldn’t they hate you? You were a screaming, crabby asshole who almost always had nothing nice to say to anybody, even the people you considered your closest friends.

And Terezi, oh you fucked up with her. You fucked up real bad. You suspect maybe she was the only person who maybe could stand you, but now you know for sure she hates you. In fact, you feel happy at the thought of everybody hating you. Because if everybody hates you, then they won’t come looking for you. They’ll leave you alone to die on this planet and you will have no knowledge of their fate, but at least you are sure they wouldn’t die at the hands of these aliens.

The emotions and thoughts swarming through you at the moment are so fucked up and confusing you nearly start crying out of anguish again, but you quickly remember your promise. The promise you made to your fucking self, to Gamzee, to Kanaya, to Sollux, and Terezi...

You congratulate yourself for not shedding a single tear.

But they are staring at you now. Even the queen has her head cocked to the side, her lips mouthing but no sounds coming out, not even confused chirping. You realize they have not understood a word you have said. Your shoulders tense when the queen says something, and her face shows...Excitement? Perhaps they can understand you? The guards grab your forearms roughly, but she snaps at them, voice rising into a pitch that makes your ears ring. Thank goodness the guards are mostly male and have deeper tones.

Their grips slacken slightly and she has a look of approval. She says something, before bending down so you are both eye-to-eye. She’s saying something again in that slow, clear tone, and this time you are sure there is some sort of purr beneath it. She’s...Being kind to you? She then straightens up and says something in a tone you can place directly, that you don’t even need a second to think about-It’s demanding, an order.

The guards steer you away from her and into a different hallway from the one before, this one devoid of any windows.  They walk you for a few minutes, and you start thinking that perhaps she was being kind to you because they’re about to kill you. A pang of fear settles in your chest before disappearing as soon as it came. They wouldn’t kill you. They’ve shown to attempt to understand the language, and if they do, they’ll need you. Alive.

At least, you hope. You know this is just your desperate thinking. As earlier, when half of you hoped your friends hated you and the other half wished they were searching, half of you wants to die and put an end to it all. But the other half-the saner, you hope-wants you to live.

They come to another lab, where there are a few people inside. The guard near the entrance has the same light hair as the queen, as the two wrigglers from before. As one of the guards clenching your upper arm. He wears dark shades as well, and when he bends down to pick something, you see a flash of his eye color in the space from his eye and the frame. They’re orange.

Orange blood?

The only thing you can think of that remotely relates to that is Tavros’s brown, but it’s not the same. Did they perhaps have a few different colors here as well? The orangeblood says something, in a deep tone, and then takes your upper arm, waving the other guards away. He leads to a door in a corner and opens it, giving you a light shove inside, before flicking the lights on.

The lights are bright and blinding, but within seconds your eyes become accustomed and you gaze around. It’s white, painstakingly white, and the lights seem to make it all the more brighter. It’s not as large as the lab, nearly the same size as the one with the other aliens, which, when you think about it now, seems to be the infirmary. Your room is nearly the size of the infirmary with one of the nests pushed into a farther corner, and an empty shelf. That’s the only thing in there.

The door shuts behind you and you hear a click.

  
They’ve locked the door.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“Oh my god! Did you see that! I think he might understand me!” Roxy exclaims as she sits on the chair next to both you and Rose. John is with Jade.

“If he understood you, don’t you think he might speak fuckin English?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow. Roxy and Rose give a simultaneous roll of their eyes before Rose speaks up.

“He understands the tone, Dave, which is important. If he understands when we’re being kind to him, he may react positively, so-”

“Okay, I don’t need a scientific explanation,” You say, holding up a hand and halting Rose, who crosses her arms in annoyance, “But Roxy, did you understand what he was saying?”

“No,” She frowns, but then she frightens, “But if he’s trying to communicate, then he may understand that we don’t mean any harm!”

“We don’t mean any harm,” You mutter darkly, crossing your arms and mirroring Rose’s stance, “Yeah, that’s completely fucking true.”

“Can you try to take a positive look on this?” Roxy sighs in exasperation, when the door opens on the other side of the room and Roxy says, “Dirk, you and your brother share the same attitude and I don’t like it!”

“Well boohoo,” Dirk says sourly, and you all stare at him. He was never directly asshole-y like that...To Roxy, at least. As soon as he realizes what he has said, he runs a hand over his face and mutters something about a long day. For a half second, you feel guilty. You can’t help that you’ve made your brother feel stress in worrying that you might show weakness again and fail to kill when necessary.

However, the image of the helpless creature (you can’t really find it in yourself to call him ‘alien’ anymore-he was just too human) bleeding before you with the same exact blood color as humans, much, much younger looking than any of the other aliens that passed through here...It was really fucking sad, and just imagining you bringing the sword down on it while it was in that state of condition was just…

Oh fuck, you’ve grown soft. You’ve listen to John, Jane, and Roxy’s ranting on the cruelty to the creatures for so long you’re becoming like them. Oh fucking great. Your bro is definitely going to be happy when he hears this. There’s a sudden ping and Dirk and Roxy check their PDA’s, and, at the same exact time, look up at each other before Roxy says,

“Doc and Harley just got a new message on his phone-thing.”

“What?” You and Rose’s attentions are caught at once at this bit of news. Roxy gets to her feet and she’s clearly bouncing excitedly, but Dirk looks a bit...Hesitant. But you and Rose are already following Roxy, and you don’t look back at your bro. Your relationship with him is skating on thin ice once again. Ever since you both came here to this stupid fucking military base, as far away from Texas in the U.S. of A as possible, you’ve been pretty fucking miserable, and your relationship with your own brother as reached rocky times.

You hope it passes over soon.

But no sooner has this thought reached you it branched off onto a different subject entirely-

Where was the creature now? Was he being tortured again? You don’t know. You also guess that you shouldn’t call him creature. Perhaps Karkat is his name. Or maybe a codename. Or maybe it’s not Karkat at all, just some weird alien term. Or maybe the computer mistranslated his name. Whatever it is, you feel like you shouldn’t be calling him anything until you know for sure what his name is.

But how? It’s not like Dirk would let you in to ask. Why would he…?

A second later, a brilliant plan begins to form in your mind as you enter the lab where the newest message is on screen, but this time in yellow print.

The plan defies your brother and his rules, yes. In fact, it defies the rules of the whole lab. You’re going to need a bit of help from Rose and Roxy. You’re also going to need a PDA of your own, which you'll have to steal. You’ll have to get up past curfew. You’ll have to do it in a locked room you’re forbidden to answer.

But that alone made it all the more appealing.

**  
TA: hey a22hole, iif you don’t reply eventually kanaya ii2 goiing two fliip her 2hiit. and iif we go on a re2cue miisiion for you, that mean2 ii have two go two. so fuckiing an2wer goddammiit before II 2tart worryiing. al2o terezii 2ay2 hii.**


	6. Chapter Six

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

“What can you infer from these past two messages?” Doc asks. Her attention is on Roxy, who crosses her arms and examines the messages. They are side-by-side on each other in order of date, and the software is in the midst of translating a third. After a moment she asks to wait for the software to finish translating. Doc nods and looks down at her screen before ordering someone to work faster.

You yourself are perked with interest, and you have shoved all plans for defying everything (even fucking gravity if you could, but sadly you’re not Spock) and watch the screen. Purple text is being displayed, and it seems to be loading at a much faster rate. You suddenly feel interest tickle the back of your brain. The aliens seem to have a...Unique typing style each?...As in…

“Loaded,” Doc says, and holds up a hand, preventing anybody else from speaking. Her eyes are on her oldest daughter.

TC: HeY mOtHeRfUcKiNg BeSt FrIeNd, SoLbRo AnD kAnAyA aRe AlL uP aNd FlIpPiNg ThEiR sHiT bUt I’m CoOl So DoN’t WoRrY aBoUt Me :o) YoU’vE bEeN gOnE fOr So MoThErFuCkInG lOnG i AlMoSt FoRgOt WhAt YoU lOoKeD lIkE. KiNd Of SaD rIgHt? BuT dOn’T wOrRy-MoThErFuCkInG mIraClEs BrO. :oD So InStEaD oF aLl Up AnD bEiNg DePrEsSeD aBoUt It ImMa TeLl YoU nOw. TaV aNd I aRe MaTeSpRiTs NoW. hEh, MiRaClEs, RiGhT? YeP. ErIdAn AnD sOlLuX aRe KisMeSiS i ThInK. DoN’t ReAlLy KnOw. UhHhHh...ThAt’S aLl I hAvE tO sAy :o)

“Well….I can say that the green text was this Kanaya girl, and...The yellow could be either this Eridan or Sollux person. Or...Tavros? Most likely Sollux, since his is the second most-recent-”

“This message was sent a month ago,” Doc says. Roxy stops abruptly, eyes fixated on the screen, before you ask,

“And isn’t there more?”

“Plenty,” Doc leans against the table, flips her blonde hair over her shoulder, and examines the writing closely, “What can you tell me other than that, Roxy?”

“Well...I just want to know what a Matesprit and a kiss-mes-es...Kis-mis-es...Keeh.Ki-whatever is.” Roxy cocks her head first to the left, then to the right. She then shrugs, but that’s when Rose speaks up.

“Obviously, they’re intelligent. And a lot like us. I’m pretty sure that’s an emoticon. And the different ways in which they type is unique too.”

“How many more messages have been sent since this one?” Doc asks a computer intern, who clacks away on his computer. A moment later he says, “Fifteen.”

“Translate them all. Now.”

“It’s going to take a while because-”

“I don’t care.”

The intern nods and repeats the command in his headset. You hear others in the room repeating and the slight sound of static of others on the other end of their headsets replying.

“Time for bed, kids,” Doc says after they spend maybe after five minutes of staring at the screen. The only things you have translated so far is what looks like the username, gallowsCa-. The translation ends there. Bars of code are flitting across the screen and typing flies across, the database is accessed, then exited so briefly you wonder if you really saw it. The work of these hackers and such were kind of amazing.

Both you and Rose make faces at the way she has called you kids-You would like to argue that you are fucking fifteen, almost sixteen, and is most certainly, definitely, not a kid, but Rose just pinches your arm and runs out the door before you can pinch her back. You race after her but she is already way ahead of you. With a frown, you realize you need to talk to her to put your plan into action. You need her, after all.

But you suppose it can wait.

For now.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The next time the aliens come around you are hiding already, curled up in the nest you had made on the floor with the scratchy blankets. The human nests were too hard for your comfort. As soon as they enter the room you hiss at them. You get from your nest and prepare to charge at them, to make an escape as your bored mind had planned to do.

The smirk they make fuels your fury and you release a growl that sends their eyes wide and jaws dropped.  You prepare to take a leap to escape. But from here you have no idea where you would be going. Oh well. You take a single leap forward, but one holds up a gun-a gun that look small, but you doubt it is really as powerless as they seem. You flinch instantly and take several steps backwards, the realization of having a gun pointed in your face shocking you until you trip backwards over your own nest.

The guards snigger.

One of the guards, the taller one with strange shades-The orangeblood, you note, recognizing his spikier light hair- is holding a metal tray of what looks like….Some sort of..Red-brown meat on...You suppose it is bread? And there was some sort of red and yellow sauce on the meat. They set the tray down, feet away from you, one gun still pointing in your face, before they back out slowly, and shut the door behind them. But not before they flip off the lights.

Your shoulders rise uncomfortably as the darkness hits you like a solid brick, and unconsciously you start clicking again. Your eyes stare, straight ahead, trying to make out anything in the black, but you can only see faint outlines. It’s silent, save for your breathing and for the involuntary clicking at the back of your pipe. You hesitantly climb out of the safety of your nest, before reaching over to the slight glint of the metal tray. Your fingers brush against the freezing material and you flinch before feeling around, before your pads brush against something soft.

You lift the item (you suppose it is some sort of food) and bring it to your nose, taking a deep sniff. It smells...Delicious? Delicious and warm, the beef made freshly and juicy...But you didn’t want to go sinking your teeth into it just yet. You want to make sure it is safe to eat, and not poisoned. But your nose detects nothing. And you tend to trust your nose.

So you take the first, experimental bite, prepared to spit it out if it burns or tastes funny.

Nothing happens.

Bite after bite, you try to enjoy it. You really do. This might be your last meal, for all you know. You are hardly even rendering your surroundings and the next thing you know you are chomping on it, leaving the last traces of it the red sauce now on your fingers. You place your two middle fingers in your mouth, the forefinger with the yellow sauce on it brushing the corner of your mouth, before you take out your two middle fingers and go to lick your index finger. Your mouth is wet from saliva due to eating and smelling the food they had given you-And your stomach growls, craving for more.

The door opens again and another person steps in-The Queen.

You pause, finger still in your mouth, a small trail of drool leaking out of the corner of your mouth and dribbling down your chin, but you can’t find the courtesy to take your finger out of your mouth. You are too shocked at the fact that the Queen would visit you herself in your little imprisonment home. She opens her mouth, says something, and it seems like she is trying to tell you something. Then the tone lowers into that gentle purr and for the briefest of seconds, you relax, slowly sliding your finger out of your mouth.

But then she holds up a syringe, a very sharp-looking syringe, and you rip your finger out of your mouth and scramble backwards, mouth open and letting out a sound that you weren’t aware you had in you. She holds out a hand and seems to be making a strange noise, and a second later, you realize exactly what the noise is.

‘Shhhhh.’

Was she…

 _Comforting_ you?

 _Shooshing_ you?

She takes another step closer and you hiss, crossing your arms so your hands are covering up the veins they would need to prick the syringe into. She shooshes again but you release a series of noises you’re not even sure she understands. She frowns and gets on her knees in what most would consider a sort of submissive way. You feel fear as she reaches out and gently takes your arm, still speaking in the purr.

Is it the purr of a concerned mother grub or is it the purr of a lion prepared to feast?...

She then pricks a vein in your arm when you had dazed out for just the briefest of seconds and you hiss, toes curling in pain and you nearly jerk your arm away when just as quickly as it started it stops. She holds up the syringe-a bit of his blood inside-and carries it out the door, but not before looking back and doing another gesture you recognize-Waving goodbye.

The trauma of the experience hits you like a brick, and while you know it could be much, much worse, for some reason, this seems the most horrifying. You draw your knees to your chest, shoulders hunching, attempting to gather every bit of warmth you have in a pulse of heat, but you feel cold. It’s still dark in here. And now it’s deadly silent.

In hours your ears are ringing. You attempt to keep your eyes open, to not fall asleep in fear what they might do to you while you are out, but soon your tired muscles scream at you and you allow yourself to curl up into your nest, residing in your pulsing warmth and yet trying to be on your guard. But after a few hours of showing weakness, of being curled into a position most would consider perfect timing for striking, nobody comes.

You're all alone. You have nobody. Your friends are probably not searching for you. Your moirail...You have a bad feeling about him. You never apologized to anybody you meant to apologize to. No. You are alone and you have a sick feeling in your heart.

You've felt these emotions before today, earlier, but now, alone with your own thoughts in this hopeless silence, you have to cope with your mind. Your brain and gut and soul and whatever the fuck feeling these emotions that weaklings would only feel.

You _are_ a weakling.

The pain inside your chest is at unspeakable limits that you couldn't even try to describe.

So you let yourself sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

GC: H3Y. 1 DON’T R34LLY KNOW WH4T TO S4Y. 3V3RYON3 KNOWS YOU’R3 ON 4 SU1C1D4L M1SS1ON. BUT TH3Y W4NT TO PR3T3ND. BUT 1’M NOT GO1NG TO. NOT TH1S T1M3. 1'M GO1NG TO M4K3 TH1S SHORT, OK4Y? 1'M T1R3D OF HOP1NG FOR 1MPOSS1BL3 TH1NGS. L3T'S B3 R34L H3R3. FOR ONC3. JUST PL34S3....1T'S H4RD FOR M3 TO F4C3 TH3 COLD H4RD TRUTH OF TH1S.

GC:1T’S H4RD TO G3T TH3 WORDS OUT, BUT 1’M T3LL1NG YOU TH1S 1N 4DV4NC3.

GC:GOODBY3, K4RK4T.


	7. Chapter 7

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

“What’s up with all the weird-ass names?” You ask, leaning against the desk behind Doc, and staring at the teal-colored text on the screen, “Karkat? Sollux?"

“Aliens, Dave, aliens,” Roxy says from behind you, whom you didn’t even realize had been standing behind you. You give a little jump but play it off as a shiver (besides, it was kinda cold in here) before giving a shrug.

“Yeah, well, aliens or not, still.”

“I think Karkat sounds cool,” John says, the light of the screen reflecting on his glasses.

“Shut up, Egbert,” you punch his shoulder lightly, “Of course you would think that sounds cool. Lame.”

“Heh. Beep beep meow.”

“John, I swear if you say that again I’m going to blow your brains out,” Jade says. Her ankle wasn’t good enough to be walking in it alone, but with the help of crutches she could go along just fine, “It was funny and cute the first ten times. Now it’s annoying.”

John pouted and the rest of you laughed. But as the laughing subsided, you still couldn’t help but think of (there was no doubt about his name now) Karkat in wherever he was. Surely, if these aliens were his friends, then they must be looking for him? And, if they’re looking for him, that could mean trouble for everyone. You wonder if Doc and Harley have thought of this, but you shake your head. Of course they have.

But you can’t help but wonder as you stare at the screen.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

It’s been so dark. And so silent. You have no idea how many days it’s been. You don’t even know if it’s been days or a couple of hours. You’re starving, so you guess most likely days, and the sore throb from your arm that the Queen’s needle had been struck had dulled down. The room is so cold that not even curling up on your nest, deep under the scratchy blankets. Your stomach clenches at the thought of the food you had before, and you wish they would feed you already.

Your dreams are hellish nightmares, and you wish they would stop. At first it was becoming lost and forgotten, trapped in corners of places that you wished you would never be cornered. It became you being trapped inside a glass cage while your friends watched you with no sympathy at all in their eyes, as you screamed and pounded on the glass, the oxygen only lasting yous o long. And the worst nightmares were filled with him swimming in his own blood, stomach ripped open and eyes bleeding. You would shriek and thrash until you woke up, panting, still in the cold, dark room.

What made it worse was the eternal darkness, the ringing in your ears. You couldn’t see two inches in front of your face. It was as if someone had pressed a black blindfold to your eyes and shouted in your ear until you were death. The room had begun to lose the distinct smell of cleaner, and it was becoming to smell like you. Of course, you can’t smell yourself, because you’re already accustomed to it. So the room is scentless, soundless, and shrouded in blackness.

You are so bored, you’re sure your think pan is becoming mush. For a moment, you considered clawing yourself, counting down hours on your forearm, but then the thought of the lights turning on and catching a glimpse of your own blood was nauseating. So instead you spent meaningless hours tugging at your shirt, fiddling with the collar of it and trying to embrace yourself into it’s small warmth.

You were doing this when they finally decided to open the door.

A bright white rectangle of light appeared and with it, brought you blindness, as you hissed and brought your hands up to your face, and a single voice said something. Being in silence and darkness for so long, your ears pounded painfully and you gave a small screech. Waves of mixed scents hit your nose and it stung a little, and for several minutes, you remained curled up, until your eyes became adjusted to the light and your ears stopped hurting as much.

When you open your eyes, you see the Queen, and a smaller girl who looks almost exactly like her. You’ve seen her before, haven’t you? As the girl and the Queen step forward, on instinct, you hiss. You back away and the Queen mumbles something, but you are not so trusting of her after she sampled some of your blood. You just can’t. The mini-Queen says something in a higher tone to the Queen before lowering her voice and sounding out words slowly. You backed away quickly as they both stepped forward, feeling your whole body tense like a coiled spring.

It’s then you noticed the boy standing behind them, the same light hair that should be impossible, that you wondered how they had hair like that. Or was it normal here? Did they have different hair colors? You can’t tell what class he is. His eyes are covered by a pair of stupid-looking shades. But you recognize him at once and you can involuntarily feel your shoulders relaxing slightly. If your memory serves well, he didn’t kill you. He saved you. But your memory was hazy on the subject.

The Queen noticed he was relaxing and glanced behind her to see what for. She saw the boy with the shades and said something, and he replied back. His voice was a bit stoic. She repeated the same words and sounds, and he gave an exasperated reply. He stepped forward and you tensed over so slightly, but the Queen placed a tray in his hands and he took his footsteps nice and slow. Within three feet from you, he knelt down and placed the tray in front of you. You were still tense, and you were staring right at him, but you were not growling or hissing. You didn’t think of him as much a threat.

The mini-Queen said something in what was unmistakably a teasing tone, and he snaps at her. The Queen laughs and the sound pitches high in your ears and you raise your hands to block the noise out, but the boy makes a sound that sounds like shooshing, and she stops laughing. They’re all staring at you, and it’s making you lock up. You’re involuntarily drawing your knees and elbows closer to your inner self, back hunched. You’re defensive.

They stare for a moment and the Queen says something. She sounds fascinated. You realize you are becoming more and more aware of what their human emotions sounds like, and it’s scaring you. But then the mini-Queen reads something off what looks similar to your portable Husktop. They exit slowly, glancing back at you. You keep staring back.

To your relief they leave the lights on and it’s such a welcoming change you feel like crying. But of course, you remember your promise. You’re not to cry. You won’t allow yourself to cry.

But you become dangerously close to as you glance at your food. Round pieces of breaded meat and delicious fried things. You thank your ancestors that these aliens have good food.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

You’re disturbed from your sleep as the door to your ‘cell’ slams open and you instinctively jump to your feet, hissing and growling. But it’s the boy from before, being nudged in by the Queen and another boy with dark hair and glasses. He seems reluctant, but he crosses the room over to you. You tense up again, already starting to click, but he sits down a good seven feet away from you and slides something towards you as the door behind him closes.

You catch it before it slides past you and with one glance down, you realize that it is your portable Husktop. You stare with wide eyes at it, before you notice he has something similar in his hand. There’s a notification in the corner signalling  you’ve got a new message. You tap on it, and your eyes go wide. Could this be?....

Bright red, someone new, talking to you in your language….But how could it be-?

~turntechGodhead began pestering carcinoGeneticist~

TG: whaddup bitch im dave 

  
  



	8. Chapter Eight

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You stare at your screen, not looking up to make eye contact with Karkat. You can hear his breathing, which is now rapidly becoming more and more ragged with shock. Roxy and Dirk, being the technological geniuses they were, had managed to take everything from the messages that the translator had translated, which included every letter in the troll alphabet, to automatically be read in human language on your PDA, and whatever you say to be translated into the alien language on his...Thingy. Now you just hope that it doesn’t get translated into French. It would suck if the alien language actually translated into French instead of English. Oh god, _anything but the French._

You’re waiting, and you’re waiting. You wonder if the alien is even typing (You’ve begin doubting that his name is actually Karkat, because that’s just such a ridiculous name. Surely it must be a code word for something. Right?) You think about glancing up to see if he’s even paying attention to you. If he decides to attack you, your brother and Jake, who are watching you through the one-sided mirror/window thingamajinky, and you were relieved to find out that you wouldn’t have to break rules to be able to communicate with him.

Roxy had been superbly excited over the fact that he didn’t seem to have such a negative reaction to you, and decided, _Oh yay he doesn’t want to kill you as badly, let’s_ _stick you in there and like you can become bffsys_. Those were her literal words. And now you were here, waiting, and wondering if he would ever even reply. Suddenly, your notification pinged, and-

CG: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT, HAVEN’T YOU TORTURED ME ENOUGH FUCKING ALREADY? WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING STOP? BY THE WAY YOUR FOOD *SUCKS* AND I’M FUCKING STARVING YOU SHIVERING DOUCHE. YOU THINK YOU’RE SO COOL BEHIND THIS FUCKTARD SHADES. NEWSFLASH, YOU’RE NOT.

You blink, staring. Well fuck. That was definitely not what you were expecting. Maybe a ‘I come in peace.’ Or ‘we will rule you mortals. Fools. Mwahahaha.’ But not _that._ Certainly not that.

TG: calm your tits bro my name is dave whats your name

CG: LIKE I WOULD FUCKING TELL YOU.

TG: is it karkat or is that

TG: like

TG: a code word or something

CG: WHAT.

CG: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW THAT.

TG: by the way if you try to contact your friends the messaging thinger will stop you

TG: so dont even try

CG: I WASN’T GOING TO TRY.

CG: I DON’T WANT THEM TO COME LOOKING FOR ME.

TG: what why

CG: LIKE I WOULD FUCKING TELL YOU.

TG: youve said that already.

CG: I CAN SAY IT AGAIN.

You glance up at Karkat, who is rapidly typing away angrily, and you’re kind of amazed. I mean...It’s hard for you to describe, but it’s just...Amazing? That he can actually...You can’t really find the word for it. The small teenager-looking alien (you’ve got to stop calling him that. You’ve got to ask him what he is.) was looking ferocious as he sent message after message.

CG: SERIOUSLY WHO ARE YOU TO FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

CG: YOU CUT ME OPEN ON A TABLE AND TAKE SOME OF MY FUCKING BLOOD AND YOU EXPECT ME TO BE ALL HAPPY AND DANDY ABOUT THAT.

CG: WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME.

CG: IS IT INFORMATION BECAUSE I KNOW FUCKING NOTHING.

CG: SO SHOVE IT YOU NOOKSTAIN.

TG: okay im sorry about the table thing im not in charge

TG: but if it makes you feel better it made me sick

TG: sicker than my sick fires man

TG: like my stomach just got pumped by millions of tiny men made of irony

TG: and the irony was coming to bite me in the ass

CG: WHAT?

TG: okay im not here for information, im here to get to know you.

CG: SERIOUSLY?

TG: how about i ask questions and you answer.

You can hear him clicking silently, and an annoyed, ticked sound. You glance up, but he doesn’t look like he’s moving any time soon. Actually, he has his knees drawn to his chest and his little PDA thing resting on them, hunched over and staring intently at the screen, as if waiting for an answer. Curled up like that and looking so small...Almost like a kitten.

 _Slow down there bucko_ , you tell yourself, _don’t be comparing the alien to something cute._

__

TG: okay what are you.

CG: WHAT KIND OF A FUCKING QUESTION IS THAT?

TG: not an ironic one.

CG: DO YOU GENUINELY NOT KNOW WHAT I AM?

CG: I AM A TROLL.

CG: OBVIOUSLY.

TG: right yes of course

TG: a troll

TG: i ironically totally knew that and asked the question to make you ticked off

CG: REALLY?

TG: fucking no

CG: OKAY IF WE’RE GOING TO DO THIS

CG: THE QUESTIONS YOU ASK, YOU HAVE TO ANSWER TOO. WHAT KIND OF PALE CREATURE ARE YOU.

TG: like what am i?

CG: YES.

TG: okay i am part of an ironically white race

TG: or half white

TG: kind of white

TG: some black

TG: some mexican

CG: WHAT IS A MEXICAN?

TG: okay i am part of a race called humans

TG: we eat burgers and shit

CG: YOU LEGITIMATELY EAT SHIT?

CG: YOUR RACE IS MORE DISGUSTING THAN I THOUGHT.

TG: no you sick douche

TG: its a figure of speech

CG: WELL IT’S A STUPID ONE.

TG: okay what fucking ever

TG: whats your name

CG: I THOUGHT YOU ALREADY KNEW.

TG: humor me.

CG: KARKAT VANTAS.

TG: sup my name is dave strider

CG: THAT IS A RIDICULOUS NAME WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT.

TG: okay next question

TG: how old are you

CG: 6.

TG: goddamn

CG: WHAT ABOUT YOU

TG:  fifteen

CG: HOLY SHIT YOU’RE OLD

CG: I THOUGHT YOU WERE A KID.

TG: i am

CG: THEN HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU A KID IF YOU’RE FIFTEEN SWEEPS

CG: THAT MAKES NO SENSE

TG: what kind of name is karkat

TG: your parents are stupid for naming you that

TG: just dont tell i said that shit could go down

CG: WHAT ARE PARENTS?

TG: that is just about the saddest damn thing i ever heard get said

You suddenly notice that Karkat is glaring at you. He makes a clicking noise but you just shrug, signalling to him you have no idea what the fuck he’s saying. He makes a face. Is he really only six? Well, if you think about it….Probably these troll years are different from human years. Plus, he mentioned ‘sweeps’ so…

TG: actually i might not be that old

TG: i think its a culture difference

TG: like how old is six

CG: NOT VERY OLD.

TG: okay not very old but old enough?

CG: I’M ALMOST OF AGE.

TG: okay im gonna assume that your coming of age is eighteen years old

TG: sooo

TG: youre probably sixteen

CG: I JUST SAID I’M NOT THE OLD, FUCKING LISTEN.

CG: THIS IS STUPID.

CG: I SAID I’M HUNGRY.

TG: do i look like a fucking maid to you

CG: YES.

CG: VERY MUCH SO. 

TG: im done here

~turntechGodhead has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist~

You glance up to find he’s staring at the screen, frowning. You tell him that he can have it, but he won’t be able to talk to any of his friends, and that the things that you’ve assumed are gaming apps are unblocked for him. You’re not sure if he understood you entirely. Or at all. But he’s staring at you now. You look down at your PDA, which is beeping.

~carcinoGeneticist has begun pestering turntechGodhead~

CG: CAN I SEE YOUR HUSKTOP.

TG: my fucking what

CG: YOUR THINGY.

TG: thats dirty and a little too soon

CG: NOT THAT

CG: THE THINGY IN YOUR HAND.

TG: why

CG: JUST GIVE IT TO ME

CG: PLEASE?

TG: whoa you just said please

TG: how the fuck can i argue with that

CG: GOD FUCKING DAMMIT DAVE.

~carcinoGeneticist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead~

You bend down slowly, keeping your eyes on him, wondering what the fuck he could need it for. You slide it towards him and he stares at the screen for a moment before glancing at his own. His eyes flit across the screen as you stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. To your surprise, he opens his mouth and begins to try to sound something out. It sounds a bit wrong though, a bit foreign, and he looks up you. He opens his mouth and attempts sounding it again.

“Da….Da…”

“Dave?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. He looks from both screens and frowns. You suddenly sort of understand what he’s doing. Comparing with the language his is written in and yours is, he can kind of get a sense of what your language is like and sounds. Or so you think. You don’t really fucking know. For a moment, he’s staring. He’s trying to sound it again.

You see Dirk in the corner of your eye, and he’s tapping on his watch, indicating time, but you’ve got to go. You walk towards Karkat, any slight fear of approaching him earlier vanishing. You knelt down and take his...Husktop,  from him, and he glares up at you, but he does nothing. You show him the screen, and click a little toggle in the corner Doc showed you. It toggles from their alphabet to yours. So he can look at both his language and yours. You then take your PDA back and straighten up, and you see your brother again. He’s staring at you impatiently in the doorway.

You suddenly have the violent urge to prove him wrong. To prove to him that the earful he gave you earlier for not killing Karkat was worthless and meaningless, but Karkat is not so bad. A grouchy pants from what you’ve seen, but he’s not violent. At least, you hope. He hasn’t attacked you once to prove this. And now you’ve got to prove it to him.

So you reach over to Karkat and ruffle his hair. It’s not overly fluffy soft like a cat, but it’s not like normal hair either. It’s not scratchy, but it’s just a little rough, but yet there’s something soft about it. You ruffle it again and he lets out a slight purr that he instantly chokes and glares at you again. Dirk’s face is even more angry and disapproving when you walk towards him. You know he’s going to lecture you again, but you can only smirk.

As you walk out, you can hear Karkat behind you. Sounding out. And just before the door closes, you hear,

“Dahv.”

Close enough.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y34H, TH1S 1S GO1NG TO SUPR3M3LY B3COM3 BLOODY 4ND D1STURB1NG >:[

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You’re looking between the two languages and you’re trying to make some sense of them, of any of them. Then you’re shoving this delicious sweet substance inside your mouth that tastes kind of like milk and started melting when you didn’t eat it right away. You hadn’t been given any utensils, so you were forced to use your fingers. And the next thing you know, you’re curled up in your nest, wondering what the fuck you can do in this boring respiteblock.

Dave had been...You don’t know the word for it. A somewhat refreshing change to the lack of any life inside the respiteblock? Something that actually moved and talked and blinked (well, you couldn’t see past the shades, but still.) And he left you with your Husktop. You wanted to click on the messages from your friends, to see what they said, but...You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You had officially convinced yourself they hated you, and there was no going back on that now.

But still, you can’t help but flip it open every now and then. _Flip._ Spotted a message in the text of that sea-dwelling douche. _Shut._ Your nose itches. You scratch it. You flip the Husktop. _Flip_. Glimpsed the word ‘around’ in the faltering way of Tavros. _Shut._ Turning on your back, tucking your arm behind your neck, closing your eyes when your finger subconsciously flips it open again. Seeing ‘BY3’.

Your finger hovers over the combination of numerals and letters before you flip it shut again, before opening it again. You’re like a maniac now with all this fucking flipping and shutting. It’s driving you nuts. You want to read it. You want to. You want to see what the teal-colored texts of a girl you were once head over heels for in a kismesistude, the girl who’s stuck closely by your side for ages. Since your wriggling day.

But you can’t bear it. You’ve been cut open on a table. You’ve been shot in the back. You’ve had blood extracted from you. You’ve been staying in this fucking respiteblock for days on end. But you can’t feel yourself die inside again today if you read what the message says. So instead you tap on the red messages from Dave and read over them for the billionth time in an hour.

_ TG: whaddup bitch im dave _

So stupid. And yet he reminds you a bit of your friends. A little dabble of Vriska, a bit of Gamzee, maybe some of...Your thoughts stop there. So you just read the messages. Over and over. One by one. Trying to take bits and pieces of what you’ve heard from his voice and imagine him saying those words. You toggle the words to the human alphabet, and it suddenly seems much easier to read the strange text. But not enough for you to really understand.

 _Oh my fucking god, look at me,_ you think to yourself angrily, _I’m like a fucking little fanboy for this kid, fuck me_.

You almost throw your Husktop at the ground. But instead, you flip it shut.

_Flip._

And you allow yourself to give way into mindful darkness.

********************

You don’t know what happened. You were closing your Husktop one moment, and the next, you are suddenly standing in a familiar room. Did you fall asleep? You look down at your hands, and notice something off. They are covered in a rainbow of colors. Red. Yellow. Two shades of purple. A splash of teal and a whole lot of olive. A dabble of brown on the tips of your fingers. More blood, indigo, soaking your shoes and the bottom of your pants. It looks like you, quite literally, were swimming in blood.

You feel hazy. Woozy. Sick. Your stomach lurches. You walk to forward slowly. The room is familiar, and yet you can’t place it. The room is painted. Or so you thought. On closer inspection, it’s blood, and there are words written in blood. But painted over so many times but so many different colors it’s hard to read them. But they all say the same thing; Red.

_Red. Red. Red._

_Red._

It’s echoing around your head. It’s reminding you.

_Red._

_Your blood is red._

It’s like some sick, twisted inner demon within you is struggling to escape your chest. It’s pounding away at your ribcage with a sharp shard of your own heart, wanting to see the color all over you.

_Red._

_It’s red._

_It’s a mutation._

_It’s red._

You suddenly feel everything. _Everything_. You feel the blood rushing in your veins, the expansion of your lungs with every intake of breath, your nose twitching, you feel everything. It’s sickening, it’s frightening, it’s downright terrifying.

_Red._

_Red._

_Red, red, red, red, red-_

It’s not your voice, not your thoughts. It’s somebody else’s voice, whispering in your ear, like a cold mist seeping into you and filling you up, becoming you. You feel your hand reaching for something inside the chest that has suddenly appeared in front of you. You’re not in control of your actions. Inside there is a knife.

_Why is your blood red?_

_Why is it?_

_Red?_

It’s repeated, it’s echoing, it’s like a thousand whispers of high-pitched grubs, all wanting to pound your think pan, a cold grip lacing throughout you. This feels too vivid to actually be a dream. It feels….

_RED._

_WHY IS YOUR BLOOD RED, YOU MUTANT FREAK?_

The knife in your hand isn’t really all that special. The blade is maybe nine or ten inches, silver, sharp, nice iron grip wrapped in smooth leather. You can see your eyes in the reflection of the surface. You’re overcome with some sort of emotion. Your hand is shaking.

_Red. It’s in you._

_Inside you._

_You don’t want it inside you._

You take one finger, run your hand over the non-sharp end, the smoother side. You admire the smoothness and coolness of the blade. You flip the knife and run your finger over the smooth side again, before bringing your finger to prick yourself at the pointed end.

_But that’s not sharp enough._

You look up and see a window. You’re sure that window wasn’t there before. But you discard the knife onto the floor and walk to the window, peering outside to see a glassy-looking dark sky. There are branches waving lazily in your face. They seem to be shaking with a slight breeze.

You see your reflection in the window and you hate it. You hate you. You hate that face staring at you in the mirror, hate the face with the beginnings of a red eye color which is the reason why you are stuck on this stupid goddamn human planet, being tortured. The red. Red. It’s the reason why you convinced yourself your friends hated you. It’s the reason you’re away from home. It’s the cause of your suffering.

You punch your reflection. Your face. Your eyes, betraying you, showing your blood color that you’ve worked hard to conceal for sweeps. The window shatters easily, and jagged shards rain down on you. You feel a few nick at your skin and slice at your clothes, but you stand there and take it.

_Red is the reason you suffer._

_Don’t you wish the red was no longer inside you?_

You can see your shattered and broken reflection in some of the pieces of glass. You squat down so you can examine them, but no need-the perfect one catches your eye at once. It’s sharp and jagged and long. You pick it up, and examine it, run your finger lightly over all sides. Your finger is barely touching but it draws blood.

_There’s only one way to get the red out._

You stand up again and look down at the shard of glass. These are not your actions. You feel like you are being puppeteered. But of course you don’t think this. You’re being mind controlled. You have no independent thoughts. Everything is focused on the one shard of glass. Your breathing is cold and it catches. You stretch your arms out, the sharp side pointing to your stomach. You bring it forward, fast.

You scream, as it moves past skin, past muscle, and the sharp jagged edges cut into something important. You yank it out only to bring it in again, with more force, and you scream even louder, your throat already sore and raw. Again and again, you pull it out, then back in. Out and in. The once bright red blood is now darkened into scarlet on your black shirt, and it’s dripping down your hands.

_Back, and forth. Back and forth._

You fall to your knees, where plunging it repeatedly into the same spot is much easier, much more satisfying in the areas of pain. you scream so loudly that you feel like your vocal cords are being ripped apart, that your stomach is being shredded into bits, which it is.

_Back and forth._

Again and again. Screaming and shrieking. Rocking back and forth every couple of seconds to regain yourself, gasping for breath, your arms giving slight spasms, before you regain control over them and stab yourself in the stomach, again and again. You’re twisting your intestines around, puncturing them. You scream and scream until your ears are ringing and you can’t hear anything anymore.

_Back. Forth._

Deeper and deeper. It’s becoming smoother now, not as difficult as it was before to get past muscle and tissue, so you move it to the space just between your chest and stomach, where probably some extremely vital organ would be placed. But before you do that you reach inside the dark cave you have carved into your stomach and feel the warmth of your own blood covering your hands. You can’t really feel your intestines. Well, you can physically feel them, but you can’t actually feel them as if they were your own, as if someone were to touch your skin and you’d feel it.

You rub your hand against them-They’re a little soft but tough-And begin to pull them out, but it’s just too painful and you can feel the blood gushing over your lips as you scream again. Instead you take the glass shard again and insert it into your chest.

You’ve punctured a wound and your breathing is even more ragged and difficult than before. How are you even still _alive?_ Your head is tilted back and your tears are mingling with the blood trickling down your mouth and splashed across your face. You weakly pull your arms away and give a weak pant, pain the only thing you feel.

The red is in a dark pool around you, and you can see every detail of your face in it as you bring the shard up to slit and cut your neck and your throat, before stabbing it into your chest. Shrieking, spitting, growling. The only thought is to get the red out of you.

You fall forward and the glass shard falls to the ground, and you sputter and spill blood from the wounds you created, and spilling over your mouth, leaking out of your ears and your eyes liquefying, you feel like your _insides_ are liquefying-

And then you wake up, panting and shrieking in horror, and you thrash around, your fingers and hands going to every inch of your body to make sure it is intact, and not full of holes that you yourself stabbed, that you yourself destroyed your body. You scream again and bring your hands to your face, and you tumble out of your nest, and scramble against the wall, into a corner, where you push against the walls, looking for some means of escape.

The door opens on the other side of the room and someone peeks their head in, someone who was probably watching you to make sure you didn’t do any funny business, but to you, everything is unreal and _graphic_ , your imagination vivid and wild-You see his face as a disoriented bloody mass that is your own reflection in the pool of blood.

So you scream again, and you truly feel like your vocal cords are being torn apart. They shut the door, and you are left alone once again, left to your screaming, left to your own horrific thoughts, _left to your own demise._

**  
**


	10. Chapter Ten

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You’re going to die. This is the fifth time in the past few hours the thought has raced into your mind.  The visits from Dave became more frequent, from once every couple of days to every single day, sometimes twice. You try to forget that haunting nightmare, but it seems to be shoving itself in your face as if attempting to prove something. The humans had apparently only really trusted Dave enough to bring you food, or to talk to you at all. Or something like that-Maybe because you didn’t go batshit crazy whenever he entered without so much of a warning knock as they usually did to tell him they were coming in and absolutely no funny business.

However, every now and then Dave was accompanied by a companion-Mini-Queen, or, as Dave called her once, Rose, was often knitting something when she came in to greet him. She said she was coming in on Roxy’s behalf to check up on you, according to Dave. When you expressed confusion as to who Roxy was, Dave described her and you realized Roxy must be the name of the Queen. So...Queen Roxy? You referred to her as this once when you were attempting to explain the blood-caste system over their Husktops, barely three feet from one another, and Dave had seemed to find it highly amusing that you would call her such.

The orangeblood, whom you also learn is called Dirk, and is Dave’s older brother-(CG: WHAT’S A BROTHER?)-frequents, and whenever he does, he’s usually not accompanied by Dave. You can’t fully understand human language-not yet. But you’re starting to get a real good grasp on the sense of the words and tones they often use. You can only sound out and understand a few simple words on your own-”Hello”, “Dave”, “Bye”, “food”, “dark”, “bitch”, and your general cusswords. But whenever Dirk is speaking to you, you can detect the underlying tones of curiosity buried beneath disapproval. You don’t know what he’s disapproving of-But when you think about it, bored one night, it sort of makes sense.

If you had been back at home, and an alien species wandered onto your planet-The same species you are currently on the brink of war with-they would surely be captured and held in captivity to be tortured and the like. Imagining if you were to somehow befriend this alien (though, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself and Dave ‘friends.’ No, not yet) you are sure that the thought alone would be unforgivable. But actually becoming friends with the enemy? He could imagine punishments far worse than the torture he’s gone through so far.

So you sort of understand where Dirk is coming from, but that does not mean you like it at all. Every time he comes in, just to see what are you doing, he says something that sounds like a threat. Your best guess, threatening you that if you so much as looked at Dave in the wrong way you will be impaled. You’re not sure if he can understand you, either, but you growl insults towards him. You’re calling him the foulest names you know and yet it’s unsatisfying that you don’t even get a rise out of him, most likely because he can’t understand a single word you’re saying.

But whenever he finally leaves, you pull your Husktop out from the folded depths of your nest, an assortment of colors-Mainly orange and yellow. Another one of these humans, John, whom is the most annoying shit you have ever had the misfortune to meet, seems to insist you are friends. He tries to talk to you through a Husktop of his own, but you usually respond in the most rude way possible. The dumb little douche seems to think it’s hilarious, which only ticks you off even more. You have fantasized several times throwing various items at his stupid grinning face. He just seemed so enthusiastic about everything. It was sickening.

The weeks progress and they feed you regularly, let you out every now and then to use the bathroom, and Dave is allowed to come and go as he pleases. After a few sessions in which you and Dave talked back and forth over your Husktop and he showed you several of his human movies, they deemed that you were becoming less and less of a threat each day. Then, Dave started sitting directly next to you. Not some feet away, but right by your side, watching you type in whatever you’re going to say next, struggling to make sense of the human language.

You, too, stare in fascination at how fast he types, and the different characters appearing on the screen in a blurred red haze. More recently you have discovered just how warm Dave can be, in your freezing respiteblock. During one session, where Dave had brought a book fully of the shittiest drawings you have ever seen, you had pressed against his back, attempting to feel the natural human heat rolling off of him in waves.

TG: dude can you like

TG: stop

TG: its kinda weird

CG: I’M SORRY I’M MAKING YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO YOU NEED A HUG?

TG: was that sarcasm

CG: YES.

TG: youre getting better at it

CG: BUT DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING COLD IT IS IN HERE?

CG: MY HORNS ARE GOING TO FREEZE OFF.

TG: aw nooo theyre kinda cute

TG: like cat ears and shit

CG: DISTURBING.

TG: naw man totally cute

CG: I DON’T LIKE BEING REFERRED TO AS ‘CUTE.’

CG: IN FACT

CG: I LIKE TO THINK OF MYSELF TO BE QUITE FUCKING TERRIFYING

CG: I AM GOD, OBVIOUSLY.

TG: man not this bullshit again

TG: i regret letting egbert teaching you about religion

TG: now you seem to think youre some sort of troll jegus

CG: I AM PRETTY SURE I AM TROLL GOG.

TG: that was a joke

CG: SHUT UP DAVE.

You hear Dave chuckle, feel him shift, and his hand is running through your hair again like you are some sort of pet, an animal. You attempt to deny how good that actually feels, but the purr just beginning to rumble in your chest is betraying you. He brings his hands to your horns and begins to rub them as well, and you can’t hold it back. It’s just extremely relaxing, and you purr.

TG: youre like a cat when you do that

TG: beep beep meow

CG: OH FUCK NO

CG: DON’T USE THAT TERM EGBERT USES

CG: THERE WILL BE NO BEEP BEEP MEOWING HERE, STRIDER.

CG: DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME

CG: AM I SPEAKING FUCKING ENGLISH.

TG: technically no

CG: SHUT THE FUCK UP, I’M MAKING A GODDAMN POINT HERE.

 

Dave is chuckling even louder behind you and you open your mouth, saying that “Dahv” that makes him laugh for some reason-you can never get the pronunciation just right, but it’s getting closer- and he full on laughs. You pout, and cross your arms. All the weeks he’s visited you, at first you know he was forced. But now you feel better knowing he is coming here willingly-It makes you feel a little less lonely and shitty.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

You rub the top of Karkat’s head affectionately, like one would to a cat or some other cute animal, and laugh at his obvious distaste-But not from the rubbing. No, distaste from the fact he can’t hold back that purr you know is coming.

Ever since you discovered what rubbing his horns and top of his head did, you’ve been doing it to mostly just tease him. It’s kind of funny and weird at the same time, and once again, you’re attempting to prove to Dirk that Karkat, is, in fact, human. Well...Not really. But, you get the general idea.

Sometimes it was kind of a bonus when Karkat was tired, and he would be curled into this ball. You don’t know if it’s because maybe from his planet he slept in a cramped place and was used to it, or it was a natural instinct, or what. But whatever it was, it was adorable.

And the best news-Despite Jane and Jade would be coming in here to help him out with English lessons-was that if Karkat continued being, well, like this, they could possibly let him go outside. They could let him actually go around the base.

But, as much as you would be excited to kind of get to show him around and shit, you’re wondering if this is exactly the best plan. Karkat’s not exactly stupid, and he’s bound to notice that more than half the base still views him as a monster and an alien. A chain of events would possibly lead him to hate you. You don’t know where all these scenarios of him feeling utterly betrayed popped up from, but they each played out like a film, each more worse than the other. You could even imagine him speaking to you in English, with that scratchy, higher-pitched voice of his that sounded like a kid who shouted a lot and just got over or hit puberty. Or, as Rose said, a kid who hit puberty _twice_. You don’t know. Something about puberty.

You want to tell Karkat the news, see how he feels, but you can’t bring yourself to it. What if he wants to escape, then what? He’s one of your only friends here. Yeah, you’d go as far as to call him friend right now. John of course was your fucking best buddy, and Jade and Rose were really good friends. Roxy was a little crazy, Jane had a bit of a stick up her ass, and Jake was alright. Dirk was complicated. And Karkat was there to listen. Usually he had not much to say on the matter, and yeah, he swore a lot, and yet he was there.

You’re starting to sound like a real fucking softie when you hear the door open behind you. It’s John, peering in and grinning, before rushing over, followed by Rose and Jade.

“Oh look at Karkat! _Purring_ ,” John says, reaching a hand out to pet him. You all of a sudden feel offended about them petting him-he wasn’t an animal, for god’s sake- but Karkat, tense a moment before when seeing John, relaxed again and allowed him to rub his hand in the space between his little nubby horns. They’re not as sharp as others you’ve seen, but you wonder if they will grow or eventually sharpen. After all, he still seems kind of young.

He’s been holed up here for two fucking months, and you can imagine he is wanting out of this room (or, as he calls it, respiteblock). You watch Jade and John squat down and attempt conversation with him, and Rose is knitting what looks like a soft black lump of something.

“Whatcha knittin’?” You ask her curiously, and she glances up at you before glancing down again.

“A sweater.”

“For who?”

“Karkat.”

“Is that….The Cancer symbol on it?” You ask, staring at the gray symbols that your rather immature mind instantly renders as a form of 69. You snicker at the thought and Rose glances up at you and seems to know exactly what you’re thinking, because her lip curls up a bit too.

“Yes. I read through your conversations-”

“ _What?_ ”

“-and found when he told you his birthday. I’ve asked mom and Harley to run it through and estimate the sweeps and stuff, and the date his birthday falls onto June 12, and that his ‘sweeps’, he’s about fourteen and a half years old.”

“What does this have to do with Cancer?”

“Well….Due to the differences in the years and such, their Zodiac symbol (which they do have) is a little bit off. With estimating, Doc put it as a Cancer.”

“And you’re knitting him a sweater why?...” You push your sunglasses further up your nose and stare down at the needles on the sleeve of the sweater.

“I can be nice if I want, Dave.”

“Sur-OW!”

Rubbing the spot she just kicked harshly, you stick your tongue out at her childishly when a whistle sounds from the door. It’s Roxy, signalling them for dinner. You reluctantly head over, but not before giving Karkat another rub between the horns. He looks up at you, and you feel awful for leaving him on his own in this lonely as fuck room.

The others are out the door behind you, and Roxy flips the light switch off to conserve power-You can see Karkat’s eyes, and eyes only in the midst of darkness, lit by the white light from the outside, for a brief second until Roxy closes the door behind you and gives you a smile.

You wish you had your PDA with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y34H, 1 TH1NK M1K3 W4S L1K3 H4LF 4SL33P WH3N H3 WROT3 TH1S CH4PT3R, SO H3 4POLOG1Z3S! NOW T1ME FOR 4 G3RM4N SP4RKL3 P4RTY! WHOOOO!!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

The door opens and you perk up at once, expecting Dave to walk through the door, but you sag with disappointment as Roxy saunters in the room, a look of excitement on her face. She sits down barely a foot away from you and logs onto her own Husktop. You stare at her with confusion until your own Husktop dings and you glance at it. There, in pink text, is the username tipsyGnostalgic. You wonder, why on earth, that the queen wants to talk to you, but you decide to answer anyways.

~tipsyGnostalgic has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist~

TG: smup

TG: *sup

CG: YOU DO KNOW YOUR TWO LETTERS ARE EXACTLY THE SAME AS DAVE’S?

TG: well its noice of you to think of yeur boyfriend like this

TG: *nice

TG: *wait no noice was perfetc

CG: DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW TO SPELL.

TG: obvisuly

TG: my spelligm is

TG: actually its terrible

TG: lol im drunk

CG: DRUNK?

CG: IS THIS SOME SORT OF….

CG: PHASE OF THE HUMANS?

CG: AND WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?

TG: well that was rood

TG: i can talk to you if iwant

TG: wonkwonkwonk ;)

CG: I FIND THAT DISTURBING.

CG: WHAT IS WONKWONKWONK.

TG: omg youre so adorabnle

TG: *adoreble

CG: DON’T CALL ME ADORABLE.

CG: I AM INTIMIDATING.

CG: I DO NOT LIKE YOU CALLING ME ADORABLE, YOUR HIGHNESS.

TG: was taht sarcasm

CG: NO I’M NOT STUPID ENOUGH TO BE SARCASTIC IN FRONT OF THE QUEEN.

TG: queen

TG: hshahahshshsha

TG: HSHSHSAHSBA

TG: queen

CG: WHAT’S SO FUNNY.

TG: oh nothgn

CG: YOUR LACK OF PROPER SPELLING IS BOTHERING ME.

CG: WHY ARE YOU HERE.

TG: oh yeah

TG: I wnted to ask you a fw questins

CG: CAN YOU AT LEAST SEND IN SOMEONE WHO CAN SPELL.

CG: LIKE….

CG: DAVE?

CG: EVEN JOHN WOULDN’T BE SO BAD.

TG: noooo meeny pants i want 2 ask you mself

CG: LALALALA. I CAN’T HEAR YOU.

CG: OR READ YOU.

CG: YOUR SPELLING IS TOO AWFUL.

TG: jerk

CG: BITCH.

TG: is taht any way to takl to your queen

CG: …

CG: NO.

TG: i cam have you excexcuted

CG: I’M SORRY.

CG: DON’T EXECUTE ME.

CG: NOT NOW.

TG: (lmao)

TG: tehn you will be noice to me

TG: *ten

TG: whatver

CG: YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS. I AM STARVING.

TG: you will stavre under my watch peasant

CG: MY BAD.

TG: great now wyll yoy really answer those qeuestions if m send in dave

CG: MAYBE.

TG: omg grate i will snd in yoyr boyfriend

TG: dont do anything dirty

TG: wonkwonkwonk ;)

CG: WE ARE NOT BOYFRIENDS.

CG: I DO NOT FEEL RED OR BLACK ABOUT HIM IN ANY WAY.

CG: NO. FUCKING. WAY.

TG: wtf is black or rde aft to do with anything

TG: whaevs going 2 get dave lmao

TG: bay!

~tipsyGnostalgic has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist~

You watch as she teeters to her feet, waves at you enthusiastically, and races out of the room, accidentally knocking her shoulder against the door. If you think back on nearly every moment she’s been inside the room, you notice she has been rather clumsy and wobbly. You wonder if the drunk she mentions has anything to do with this.

Within a few minutes Dave is entering the room, and you straighten up as soon as he does. He says a “hello” and you manage a “hello” yourself, though not without stuttering slightly at that last vowel. You’ve been attempting to practice bits and pieces of the human language to yourself to imitate the sounds Dave and the others make, but without a proper human guide, it’s been difficult. Dave has been keeping his sentences simple for you if he tries to talk to you, but even then you have a rough time figuring out what he says.

“Getting the hang of it?” He says slowly. You nod. Every day he’s been teaching you a few words, and though you can hardly pronounce a few words yourself, you can understand what is being said. At least it all isn’t a jumble of noises now and actually words. Dave is already on his Husktop and saying something you don’t quite catch, and you begin to engage in conversation with him.

First, he asks you about the blood-caste system again, as per Roxy’s instructions, before asking you about the troll mating process. You had turned unmistakably red at the mention of it, and had only uttered one word-bucket. You immediately felt like washing your mouth and chopping off your hands. You did, however, explain to him the four quadrants, and you feel as if you had let yourself go on that one. You are pretty sure you had explained all about the quadrants, everything there was to them, without him speaking once, and when you were nearly finished, he had asked, ‘what?’

Oh, romance was an interesting subject, and you were glorified by it. But you yourself have never really had much luck with quadrants before. The longest relationship (well, the most successful, at least) had broken off a long time ago, and that was your kismesistude with Terezi. Over the weeks you have found thinking or saying her name is less and less difficult, and you wonder why.

Soon after he is finished asking questions with you, Dave sets his Husktop to the side and begins to say words slowly and asking you to repeat them. You’re still shit at the human language, but you manage a successful “Hello, Dave” after at least ten tries. Most of the time it came out more like “eller dahv”. You repeated “hello Dave” to yourself a million times to never let the proper pronunciation go, and you feel a swell of pride in your chest. Dave reaches out to rub the top of your head, and you duck it to make it all the easier for him.

He rubs smoothly for a few seconds, earning a purr, and moves on hand to rub one of your horns. You let out another purr, stronger this time, and can feel your cheeks flushing with heat from the relaxation and warmth it is giving you.

After a moment Dave stops and picks up his Husktop again, but then sets it down and begins to speak to you. You can only understand half of what is said to you, but one word stands out-”Go outside.”

You perk up and tilt your head to the side with confusion, and he smiles and rubs between your horns again, before getting to his feet and beckoning to the door, signalling he is going to leave. He walks away from you, back turned, and you watch as he opens the door and sets one foot outside. He looks back and says, “Goodbye.”

You can’t say goodbye yet. You can’t properly grasp it. So, instead, you say,

“Hello, Dave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4W Y3S, W3 4R3 G3TT1NG TO TH3 GOOD P4RTS! 1 LOV3 4 GOOD STORY. DON'T YOU? 4NYW4YS, TH4T 4SSHOL3 M1K3 S4YS H3 4PPR3C14T3S 4LL OF TH3 COMM3NTS! H3 WOULD R34LLY L1K3 1F YOU S41D WH4T YOU L1K3, M4YB3 DON'T L1K3, 4BOUT TH3 STORY 4ND SUCH. H3 4LSO S4YS-YOU KNOW WH4T! SCR3W 1T! 1 4M NOT 4 M3SS3NG3R! >:[


	12. Chapter twelve

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

The next time you see Karkat, the doors slide open easily to reveal him curled up on his 'nest', the very definition of boredom etched upon his face. You call out his name, and he glances up before noticeably brightening at the sight of your face. Coming out of his mouth are flurries of "Hello, Dave", and you can't help but smile at his eagerness at repeating the phrase he had mastered. John accompanies you, and it doesn't even look like Karkat is mad about this. He looks genuinely happy.

You, John, and Jake lead Karkat out of his room, and in the hallways where militarists and doctors bustle by, taking moments to stop and stare at the troll keeping close by you. At one point, pausing to allow a group to pass by, Karkat lingered so closely to your back that you can feel the light breathing of his exhales on your neck.

But Jake, standing close by with his hands settled firmly on two guns was a reminder that Karkat was still an alien. Still from the opposing side. John is just about talking your ear off, and seems to hold almost no concern for this. As you exit the base, you feel the wind hit your face and you frown. The sky is not a bright blue as you had hoped, but an overcast cloudy gray. Karkat's hand is tugging on your shirt sleeve, and you can hear him mumbling in an unsure way. John laughs, placing a hand on Karkat's shoulder. Big mistake.

Karkat emits a low growl and brings a hand up to slap John away as Jake pulls the guns from his belt and at once shoves one directly into Karkat's face. You shoulder Karkat out of the way of danger and bring a hand up, pressing it to the point of the gun and shoving it away from you. john is blinking in surprise and Jake's usually good-natured face is focused upon Karkat with a dark glint in his eyes. You feel panic rise up into your chest but years of maintaining a "cool" face keeps it from showing on your features. You step in between them, hands still raised, trying not to let a fight ruin your good day.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," You repeat, as if the word alone would distract Jake from Karkat, "Let's not...Let's not get violent here, okay?" You repeat the word with more force, "Okay?”

When Jake nods, you round on your heel to face John, who is still blinking in surprise, "Egbert, you're an idiot."

"I-what-hey!" John sputters, waving his arms wildly as if in an attempt to explain himself, but you only give him a glare so powerful he seems to sense it despite the fact you are wearing sunglasses. You extend a hand to Karkat, still on the ground, and he silently takes it. You explain to him slowly that he’s allowed outsider today, as a test, and maybe they can play a few games while they’re at it. Karkat nods and turns to look at the field of grass before him. The wind is whipping the branches of the trees surrounding and a second later, Karkat is taking off.

You give a yelp of surprise, watching him blaze through the grass, not stumbling once, and a second later Jake takes after him with the same glint in his eyes, but Karkat is much faster. A dreadful feeling looms in the pit of your stomach, that this was a terrible, terrible idea, but Karkat is suddenly bolting back towards you, and he has something in his hands. Jake appears mystified, confused, before running back to see Karkat sitting on his knees with bunches of colorful flowers, raising each one to show John and Dave with a glimmer of what looks like hope in his eyes. One flower, a turquoise-colored one shade, seems to give him some sort of remorse, and he lets it fall to the ground.

You kneel beside him and grab a handful of randomly-colored flowers before beginning to thread the stems together. Karkat cocks his head to the side and chitters in confusion as John begins to do the same eagerly. Jake runs off with the intent of getting more, letting out a “pip pip diddly doo” of excitement.

You finish weaving a flower crown and realize it’s mostly yellow-ish orange-colored ones, with purple and pink dotting here and there, the green stems intertwined. John’s a little neater than yours, but neither come close to the ones Jade can expertly create when she has the inspiration. Jake returns with an armful of flowers as you’re showing Karkat how to make a flower crown. He uses only eleven colored flowers of yellow, indigo, shades of purple, even a deadened orange one that’s beginning to look brown. The rest of the flowers he uses are white.

Karkat’s flower crown is sloppy, very much so. He places it in front of you before wandering towards the field of green grass once again and lying down in the middle of it. It suddenly reminds you of a scene from that movie, the one you can never find the time to see it all the way through to the end-You are Flynn Rider, and Karkat is Rapunzel, seeing the grass and the blue-er, gray-sky for the first time.

“What are ya smiling about?” John asks you, nudging your side playfully with his elbow.

“I’m not smiling,” you insist, but you bring a hand up to conceal it anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You lay on the soft bed of grass, fingers curled into your palms, and staring at the slab of clouded gray above. It reminds you a bit of the sky back at home, and you admit liking this sky to the much-too-blue one from before, in those first weeks spent alone in the human world. The wind feels like paradise, heaven upon your skin, spending months locked up alone in that room taking its toll on you. You’re surprised you haven’t gone insane yet.

John, Dave, and Jake are sitting and watching you, but you do not care. John, Jake, Jane, Jade, does every human have similar sounding names? Back at home, names were special-Sollux, Nepeta, Eridan, Tavros-All special. Here, they were much more...Simple. You think of the strange, circular thing you weaved of flowers a minutes before, When you think about it, they resemble crowns somewhat. Flower crowns? You snort. It suddenly seems very stupid.

A high pitched sound, a whistle, travels towards you and you sit up to see Dave holding a small white ball in his hand, forming the familiar combination of sounds and pitches-”Come here.” You get to your feet and race towards him, thrilled to feel the cool air. You would later berate yourself and call yourself a pansycake, but at the moment it’s the closest thing to freedom you can imagine. Dave throws the ball to your face suddenly, and in panic and on instinct, your hand flies out and catches it firmly. It is about the size of your palm, a leathery feel to it. Dave and John let out appreciative, appraising noises and Jake chirps what takes you a moment to understand as “good job.” Dave waves his hand towards himself, which you immediately understand as a command for you to throw it back. You toss it lightly and it lands four feet away from you. Jake and John howl with laughter and Dave is shaking his hand vigorously in the universal sign for “harder.”

You wind your arm back and throw it directly at Dave’s chest with all the force you can manage, and he gives a surprised yelp as it hits his chest. Jake and John continue to laugh even as tears come to John’s eyes. Dave gets to his feet, grinning, before throwing the ball again. Each time you manage to catch it, even at the very tips of your fingers, and Dave offers a round of applause before beckoning to himself. Eventually, John and Jake join in the game, and manage to take you by surprise at times; standing in a square formation, it would be Jake to Dave to John to you, and you would expect Jake to be throwing to Dave, but he would turn around randomly and fling it in your direction.

The first time this happened, you froze in shock and it smacked you on the forehead, and you threw it with more force than necessary back at Jake, who clenched his side painfully. After an hour, the Queen-Roxy, you reminded yourself-brings out a plate of what look like sandwiches. She doesn’t join you, but pats on you on top of your head between your horns, causing your shoulders to tense slightly but relax almost at once. The sandwiches seem to have a pinkish meat on it with white, thick sauce, and when you take a bite out of one, you think you’re in love. Sure, the other sandwiches-burgers, Dave had called them-were delicious, but these? These took the yummy human delicacy known as cake.

Dave tells you to slow down when you reach for a fourth sandwich in less than a minute, and you do, but that doesn’t make them look any less deliciously appetizing. When the four of you finish, you lie back and stare the sky. It’s been maybe four or five hours, and you’re starting to feel tired. You roll onto your side and see Dave sitting against the tree beside you. Waves of comfort and heat come off of him, and you mumble his name, “Dave.” He looks at you as you repeat it, over and over again, before realizing he is not needed. You just like the way his name rolls easily off of your tongue now.

When you eventually sit up, John as fallen asleep and Jake is making more flower crowns. Dave has your flower crown, and your heart clenches slightly at the sight of it. You take it delicately from his hands, your fingers touching the petals softly.

Each color represents each of your friends. Their blood color, arranged in the blood caste system. The only color missing is your own.

How long are you going to pity yourself? How long are you going to pine after your friends, repeat they hate you, just to get yourself throughout the day? Jake has started a fire, pressing himself close to the heat, and your fingers clench over the flower crown. It seems preposterous. Holding onto a tiny hope like that, either know they’re millions of sweeps away. And how many times have you blamed your blood color on this whole stinking mess? Countless. You are suddenly filled with anger that quickly turns into sadness, that solidifies into acceptance. You scan the ground in front of you, searching for a bright red flower. You find it easily and, with difficulty, try to weave it into the crown. Dave is at your side in a second, helping you do so. You finish weaving the flower before getting to your feet, and Dave does the same. He places a crown created purely from white flowers on your wild head of black hair, and he smiles you. You look down at the flickering flames, before down at the flower crown in your hand. The red one sticks out like a sore.

The teal-colored one seems to be the brightest. You feel your heart thud. You feel hesitation. But it passes at once.

You toss it into the fire.

Dave’s eyebrows lift up in surprise but he says nothing. You watch each color burn easily before pressing closer into the familiar warmth of the human beside you and mumbling his name in a final manner.

“Dave.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if I accidentally slip into a past-tense way instead of present-tense now and then, because I have this but other stories in the past-tense to keep up with, so I'm sorry if...Yeah! ^.^ Thank yoU! (I accidentally pulled a Calliope :O Nope, I'm keeping that typo, thank you very much.)

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

The nightmares pick up their pace once again, and soon Karkat wakes up every day to find his fists clenching the blankets in which made up his 'nest.' It was pretty lousy for a nest, and the respiteblock was empty and boring, which made his daydreams and trips to his own horrid imagination much more frequent. Flashes of his own friends being put in the same position he was were the worst.

It'd start off normally. He'd wake up, cold and alone, and get to his feet. The door would be unlocked, and all the lights on, but there would be absolutely nobody in the base. After a few minutes of searching, he would open one door that led him directly back to his prison, either know it was on the complete other side of the building. Who it was on the table in front of him depended. But most of the time, it was Kanaya or Terezi. Twice it was Nepeta and once it was Gamzee.

John, Dirk, or Queen were usually the ones doing the actual torturing. Mechanical instruments that drilled holes in their flesh, jagged pieces of what looked like bone and mirrors, and once, a hammer that Queen brought crashing down onto Terezi's skull, that broke her glasses and the shattered glass pierced her eyes. You could never get past five minutes of washing without turning around to flee only to find that the wall was completely smooth, all the walls were-No doors. No windows. No anything.

And sometimes, Dave was there. Not torturing. Not being tortured. But just there, in the corner. Your dreams felt way to livid and way too realistic for you to actually believe it's all in your head until you actually wake up, so the first thing you do when you see Dave, is run to him.

Your dreams are weird, compared to human's. John and Dave would usually tell you of theirs (no matter how much you insisted that you didn't want to hear it) and John's were usually more relaxing and...Dare you say it...Fun? Dave's were strange, but when you asked if they were able to control their dreams, or have them feel so real, both responded no. In fact, both said that most of the time they didn't remember their dreams at all.

Now that you think about it, you wonder if any of the others back at home had such dreams as you. It often feels as if you are in the dream, that you are living. In fact, when you wake up, for a few moments you can't even tell that you've crossed over from the dream world into the true world. It's too...Blended. And you remember every single one of your dreams.

That's another way you and humans differ, you reflect, as the days pass on and Jade rolls the stupid die. She, Rose, John, and Dave were all in a lounge-looking area, after begging permission from Doc and Harley to allow you to play a game with them. It reminds you a bit of one back at home, so you get how to play it easily enough, but you're a bit disappointed there's no bludgeoning each other to the death.

Thanks to Rose and Jade, and your frequent comparisons to your own language and Dave's, you're able to read some of the words on the board. You can't read grouped words together, but more individually. Dave's piece-a skateboard-was on the...Park...Place? Park Place. And your own piece-a skinnier version of your portable Husktop- was stuck in Jail. Jade and John were both stuck on Reading...Reading...You can't really tell what the rest of that is. And Rose was dominating the game, owning Boardwalk and more than four properties.

"Dude, I hate playing games with you," John pouts slightly, watching Rose roll her own die, "I always lose!'

"Cheer up John," Jade grins, thumping him on the back. You draw your knees to your chest and watch Rose move forward five. It was normally your turn to roll, but you were stuck in jail, so you passed the die to Dave.

"You digging the game, bro?" Dave asks you, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You feel the slightest of purrs, but the last time you did that, Jade and Rose had the smuggest looks on their faces, so you've refrained from doing that. John remained as oblivious as ever.

"It's...Okay," You say honestly. You still feel like the bludgeoning-everyone-with-a-mace version was better.

"Well, you would say that, because I am totally dominating now!" Dave said triumphantly, purchasing one of the last properties he needed all the way in the yellow-coded areas, "Three properties baby, plus Waterworks.  I rule."

"I still own Boardwalk," Rose said smugly as Dave passed the die to John.

It's kind of scaring you, that you can understand their language so easily. Sure, you don't understand everything ("Dave...?" "What?" "...What does..Homos...homosaxony mean?" "Er...Homosexuals?") but you've still got the basic understanding of it. Like...Well, if you could use an example Queen explained to you...She had said there were a lot more languages on Earth, and there was one language-French-that stuck out in his mind as a bit weird. She taught him a few words-("Bonjour, Dave." "...Dude, what the-" "Sacré bleau~" "... _What?!") ._ So if you were to attempt explaining it to Dave..It would be if you natively spoke French, and came from wherever the hell they spoke French to here for a few months-You would have a foreigner's understanding of it.

But you guess technically, you were a foreigner, so screw attempting to explain it all, you're confused as heck.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

After you roll the die and totally dominate the yellow properties, you grin towards Karkat, wondering how he feels to be the one losing. Well, second to losing-Jade's terrible at this game. You honestly thought he would be an easy quitter at these kinds of things-not liking to loose-but he's surprised you, so far. He hasn't thrown a hissy fit, at least, so that's good.

When the game finally ends fifteen minutes later-(Jade pretending to sob dramatically and Rose putting on the cheap 'Winner Crown' John won at a Dave and Busters once) John runs to go get a few snacks after you make the suggestion to play Truth or Dare.  You explain the rules to Karkat, who doesn't even seem like he's listening. There's the slightest of pained expressions on his face, and you frown, wondering how you could snap him out of it. A grin spreads across your face as the idea strikes you, and hey, what the heck, you've been meaning to try this anyways.

You move behind Karkat so you can get a better angle, to guarantee that in a few seconds Karkat will go from slouching to sitting up straight in a flash-and move your fingers to a point just on his ribcage. He jumps a little, but when you actually began rubbing against it, he began laughing hard. Your smirk grows bigger as you finally answer one of your questions-He _is_ , indeed, ticklish.

His arms flail wildly, attempting to get you to stop while choking out your name, but you just begin to tickle him harder, chuckling as well as you watch him squirm. Jade laughs and attempts to join in, but one of Karkat's swinging limbs accidentally hits her chin, so she scoots back, instead  watching you tickle the hell out of Karkitty. His laughter escalates when you move your fingers up higher to his under arms, and within seconds he is attempting to curl into himself, laughing out a "Stop!"

You finally do when John returns, bags of Doritos and Twinkies in arm. He spills the snacks onto the floor and you reach instantly for a Twinkie, tearing the wrapper off and stuffing the delicious goodiness in your mouth.

"Okay...Who's going first?" Rose asked, opening a bag of Doritos and examining it's contents before digging in, "Winners first?"

Jade pouted, "I hate you."

"The feeling is mutual, my friend," Rose smirked, sitting on her knees before turning to face John, "Johnny boy, truth or dare?"

"Er...Dare?"

"I dare you to....Show us your underwear," Rose says, biting down on an orange chip. John laughed before saying, "Starting with the dirty?'

"Starting with the dirty."

John slides his pants down enough to reveal his special edition Ghostbusters boxers, before pulling them back up, "They're my most prized possession."

"I hope you at least wash them, Egbert."

"Of course I do!"

"Are you suuuuure?" Jade pokes him in the rib and you laugh as he pouts. He turns to Karkat, raising an eyebrow.

"Karkat! Who was your first crush?"

"Crush?..." Karkat brings a hand up to his cheek, leaning on his elbow, pinkie inserted in the corner of his mouth and biting down on hit slightly. He seems to be in deep thought before saying, "...Sollux...Kismesis."

You know what kismesis is...Sort of. Karkat attempted explaining to you about his freaky romance stuff, but the only think you could understand was Kismesis is hatedate and Matesprit is you got the major hots for someone. Why a kismesis would be considered a crush, however, you have no idea.

"Oooh...What is she like?" Jade seems eager. Karkat looks confused before saying, "He."

There's a sudden hush, before John makes a small "oooh" and wiggling his eyes suggestively towards you. You swat at him, rolling your own eyes before saying,

"Your turn, Karkat."

"There's gay aliens?" Jade blinks.

"Of course there's gay aliens, Harley. Think." You swat her playfully.

"....Jade," Karkat says, crossing his legs rather than bringing them up to his chest now, though he was still extremely slouched, "Truth...Or dare?"

"Dare," She puffs out her chest proudly, "Hit me with your best shot!"

Karkat glances at the snacks spilled before them, moving his hand to grab one of the Twinkies. He brings it to his nose, sniffing it, before crinkling it and asking, "Are these..." He struggles with the word for a moment, "Sweet?"

"Very," You nod, Rose and John agreeing. Karkat smiles before tossing it to Jade.

"Eat five."

She pales slightly before unwrapping the plastic covering it, looking a little sick just at the thought of attempting to eat five Twinkies. She handles the first two with no problem, but she slows down by the third. You and Rose are giggling as she looks miserable taking bites out of the fourth. John is laughing his butt off. As she finally finishes the fifth, she takes a moment to lie down and hold her stomach. After a minute, she pops right back up, beaming, and asks you,

"Dave, truth or dare?"

You're no fool, and you would never pick truth, so instead, you choose dare. Jade brings a hand up to her chin before smiling very evilly.

"Take your sunglasses off for five whole rounds!"

You frown at her, not really liking this dare. But with intentions to keep good spirits during this game, you reach up and remove them from your face, setting them down next to you. You hear a hoarse gasp, and when you look up Karkat is on his feet, looking terrified. He points at you, mouth dropping open, before pointing to Rose, then back at you. You feel confused, extremely, as you begin to rise, but Karkat squeaks and turns, bolting away from you and the others.

"Karkat!" You shout, but he's running the fastest you've ever seen. You frown towards the others, wondering what was wrong with him.

What was so terrifying about red eyes?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to an unexpected plot-change by chapters 7-9, I had originally planned on having the ancestors such as Kankri, Kurloz, Meulin...But unfortunately that will have to change. Sorry! >.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You feel as if your entire world-the tiny little world of peace you had somehow managed to create with you and Dave and the others-has come caving in. You feel as if everything doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense. And yet at the same time, everything makes sense. It makes sense now why Dave doesn't get along with Dirk, because orange is obviously a high class here. It explains why Dave is often the subject of the others playful teasing. It explains why he is so friendly to you. Because you and him are the same. Exactly the same.

But why is Queen so friendly to Dave, if he is a mutant?

You are huddled in your corner, nest pushed against the door to prevent anybody from entering,  when your Husktop notification goes off. You take a peek at it, and see the pink-highlighted text of Queen. Though you know the queen's name is Roxy, it's easier for you to pronounce Queen. And she seems to like it, anyways.

~tipsyGnostalgic has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist~

TG: waaaat's up kk

CG: SHUT UP. LEAVE ME ALONE.

TG: nah bro

TG: whats the fun in dtat

TG: *taht

CG: WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME.

CG: SERIOUSLY, WHY.

TG: welp i tthink its cause ur so cote

CG: I AM NOT CUTE.

CG: AND I STILL THINK YOUR MANY TYPOS ARE ANNOYING, THEY CAN HARDLY TRANSLATE INTO ACTUAL WORDS ON MY END.

TG: mr shouty pamts

TG: *pants lol

CG: WHY DO YOU TALK TO DAVE AND I?

TG: cuz you gais are like

TG: my bffsys

CG: IS THAT EVEN A WORD.

TG: toally

TG: *totaly

CG: NO. NO I DO NOT THINK THAT IS EVEN A WORD.

CG: I REFUSE TO TALK TO YOU.

CG: LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

TG: is taht any way too talk yo your queen karkat

TG: i willl have youh beheadfeed for this

TG: *beheadeed aw nvm

CG: YOUR RIGHT, YOUR RIGHTFUL SNOBBISHNESS.

CG: I SHOULD NOT TALK TO YOU IN SUCH A WAY.

CG: FORGIVE ME.

TG: i detct sarcasm

CG: NO, I WAS BEING SINCERE.

CG: OF COURSE I WAS BEING FUCKING SARCASTIC! YOU ARE NOT, IN ANY WAY, *MY* QUEEN.

CG: YOU ARE THE HUMAN'S QUEEN.

TG: and these pettty humeans cfollow every one of my odrers

TG: faer me

TG: *feer *fear

CG: YOUR RIGHT, I SHOULD FEAR YOU.

CG: ACTUALLY, I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID. I'M A FUCKING PRISONER NOW, SO I GUESS YOU ARE TECHNICALLY MY QUEEN.

CG: BUT I STILL HATE YOU.

CG: I HATE ALL OF YOU.

CG: YOU HUMANS DON'T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE.

TG: aliens don make sense bro

TG: but cmon dive told me that yiu were upseety aso queen roxy is here to saven the day!!

CG: *DAVE *YOU *UPSET *SO *SAVE

TG: dont be a grammer nazi

TG: plz

CG: *GRAMMAR

CG: WHAT THE HELL IS A NAZI?!

TG: they were evvil sonas of bitches

TG: and lieks none of tem were hot

CG: *EVIL *SONS *LIKE *THEM

TG: omfg i hayet you

CG: *HATE

CG: FEAR ME, PRETTY MORTAL.

TG: awwww you think i am pretty!?

CG: *PETTY GOD DAMN IT

TG: hahahahasshddh

TG: im so sleepy

TG: at leasty tell dave whats beorng

TG: okey

CG: *HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *LEAST *WRONG *OKAY

TG: >:*

TG: *>:(

~tipsyGnostalgic has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist~

When Queen ceases her seemingly forever pestering of you, you almost throw your Husktop across the room in frustration until another notification catches your eye. It's a handle you haven't seen before. Fighting down the anger and hurt rising inside your chest that begins to boil once your left alone to your own thoughts, you decide to answer it.

~tentacleTherapist has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist~

TT: Any chance you want to tell me why you ran off?

CG: FUCKING NO, IS THIS ROSE?.

TT: Yes. You don't want tell me?

TT: Does it have something to do with John?

CG: NO.

TT: Jade?

CG: NO.

TT: Me?

CG: YOU ARE BOTHERING ME RIGHT NOW.

TT: Dave?

CG: GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE FOREVER SO I CAN FUCKING MOPE.

TT: Ah. So it does have to do with Dave.

CG: I NEVER FUCKING SAID THAT!

TT: Well, I'm trying to be a psychologist. And it looks like Dave is your problem.

CG: RED.

TT: What?

CG: RED.

CG: THAT'S ALL I'M TELLING YOU.

CG: NOW LEAVE ME THE FUCKING ALONE.

TT: But you have red eyes too.

TT: Sort of.

TT: Starting to get red eyes, at least.

TT: You're not answering me.

TT: I assume you have either fallen asleep or you are ignoring me.

TT: At least talk to your boyfriend.

TT: *Dave, I meant.

~tentacleTherapist has ceased pestering carcinoGenetecist~

You are getting so frustrated with everything. You'd directly ask about the red mutant blood, but another thought strikes you. What if red blood here was...Normal? No. No it wasn't. You can't think of a single person in the entire universe that would have the same blood color as you. The burning behind your eyes intensifies and suddenly your vision is blurry. Something wet runs down your cheek. You raise a fist and rub at your eye, pulling it away to see a pinkish-red liquid. You're crying.

Angrily, you wipe away the tears from your eyes, refusing to be seen as weak. You had promised not to cry. To never cry on this planet again. Your Husktop has another notification, but you choose to ignore it. You feel betrayed. All this time, you and Dave have had the same blood color, and yet he chose to never tell you about it? Was that why Dave had been the only one to talk to you for a while? Because you both shared blood color?

You can imagine Terezi here, grinning about the fact that both of your colors were delicious, like candy.

You shove Terezi out of your memory. Another painful thing to console with at a different time. Hopefully, never.

You really can't ignore the notification now, because it's blinking like crazy. When you open the Husktop, you see the name of the last person you want to talk to right now.

~turntechGodhead has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist~

TG: bro

TG: you mad bro

TG: is it like my eyes

TG: my eyes that are like hot fiery pits of lava

TG: so hot it makes all the ladies melt

TG: like butter on a motherfucking hot day

TG: hell yeah thats so me

TG: why arent you answering

TG: are you seriously that pissed off at me

TG: screw it im coming to see you in person

TG: see ya in a minute bitch

~turntechGodhead has ceased pestering carcinoGenetecist~

 

 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

After some difficulty attempting to open the door, in which is turns out that Karkat had shoved his little nest thing against, you push yourself into the room, eyes scanning the darkened area. You had your shades back on, because apparently, something about your eyes hadn't sat well with Karkat.

Speaking of whom, the aforementioned troll was huddled in the corner, face buried in his knees and arms covering his head. When you sit down next to him, his shoulders stiffen, and the clicking which you have grown accustomed to sounds from within him. He mumbles, "Who?"

"Who the fuck do you think it is, smarty-pants?" You say as you scoot closer to him, not quite close enough to touch him however, "It's Dave. Obviously."

"Hello, Dave."

The words don't come out enthusiastic, as they normally do, but instead forced. You raise an eyebrow in concern and scoot closer to him and press a hand on top of his head, fluffing that mass of black hair of his. It's a bit scratchy, but still soft. When you move your hand down to his back to rub at it, his shoulders tense.

"What's the matter, bro?" You ask, genuinely concerned, but he flinches and looks up, eyes wide. There's a pinkish stain underneath his right eye. You wonder how that got there.

"You...And me," He says, pupils dilated. He looks extremely fragile, close to breaking, as if one breath and he'd fall apart. As if everything he had believed in, had hope for, had been torn away from him, leaving him hollow with all those awful feelings inside.

"Yeah, what about you and me?" You ask, cocking your head to the side in a bit of an uncharacteristic show of concern. You've known he is fragile. He's a fucking alien from a different fucking planet being held here at this fucking military base in the middle of fucking Washington D.C. Of course he's fragile.

"We're the same," If you had ever heard a statement like this, you would have thought it would have been said in a happy way. Not the way Karkat uttered it-As if it was a curse, as if it was disgusting, as if all hope was lost. You stare at him, wondering what he could possibly mean by this. His eyes suddenly scrunch up and his nose crinkles, and he looks like if he's straining. The next thing you know, he's bowing his head and raising clenched fists to beat at your chest.

"Calm the fuck down!" You yelp, reaching over and grabbing his wrist mid-punch, and he looks up, sniffling. Pinkish-red trails run down his face. He's crying.

You suddenly understand the pinkish stain underneath his eye.

"Why are you crying?" You ask curiously, reaching out and placing a finger on his cheek to catch the tear. The tears are surprisingly warm, but why they are pink, you don't know. For some reason, they seem to be sparkly, shining a bit. Karkat shoves your hand away from him, looking fearful, before placing one of his sharpened nails on the inside of his wrist. You stare curiously, and your eyes widen when he presses it into his flesh and you realize what he's about to do.

"Kar-"

He roughly drags his nail across the soft skin on the inside of his wrists and tears it open, revealing a fine stream of candy-colored blood closely to your own. Not the exact shade, but so close enough it's hard to tell the difference. He winces and you hear the whine whistling deep in his throat as you stare in slight horror at the blood speckling the front of your shirt and the ground.

"Same," He says, softly, in that voice that sounds like you can break it, you can catch it in a jar and it would be wispy and on the verge of dying.

"....Same?" You ask quietly, reaching over slowly and taking his bloodied wrist, raising it to your shirt and wrapping it in the fabric. You work to tear the fabric from your shirt to cover his wound, which was undoubtedly deep, but it's difficult. Not to mention, you're still disturbed in how easily he managed to slice his own flesh to show his blood.

"Very same," He raises his other hand to your shoulder, and digs his nail into it. You flinch, shaking it off, but he looks into your eyes, and you make the mistake of looking back. Though your own eyes are concealed by sunglasses, you can tell he's imagining you with those red eyes. That somehow, those red eyes make you and him the same.

He pulls his hand away from your shoulder and you watch, as he overturns his arm so the inside of it is facing up, balancing it on his knee. He takes his other hand, his left, and places his fingernail nearest his wrist, which is still bleeding heavily. He begins to scratch, to carve out a letter in his skin, and you watch with horror as he creates a crooked M, and you nearly gag when he begins to carve out another letter-U.

"Karkat..." You say, voice coming out choked, absolutely horrified at what he's doing. You've seen a lot of shit in your life. You've seen screaming people on TV running away from exploding buildings as the bombings of London and New York were televised. You've seen children be slaughtered in televised events of sickos proclaiming that if war against the aliens didn't start soon, then they would take care of the human population themselves. But this? This was somehow crossing the line.

Karkat makes it all the way to A-M U T A-before you snatch his hand and pull it away from his gray skin not coated and tinted with red. MUTA. Mutant. Was that what he was spelling? MUTANT? Why would he be a mutant?

Karkat raises his arm to his eyes and covers them, and you see more pinkish trails run down his cheeks, the letters M U T A staring you in the face.

"Karkat?" You ask, and pry his arms and hands away from his face. He looks up at you, and on his face, there's betrayal.

"Why....You not tell me?" He asks, the sentence faltering a bit, "We are the same. Dave. Same."

"No, we are not," You say in an attempt to make him feel better, "You're you, Kit Kat. You are the adorable little cutesie you that doesn't know how to open a door. It's cute when you bang on it looking pissed. Very cute. And I'm me. A cool pod exploding with irony. Like if I explode it'd go around in a fifty mile radius and everyone would suddenly be infected with irony. So much irony."

Karkat abruptly gets to his feet, staring down at you.

"No!" He shouts. When he shouts, it rings in your ears and bounces across the large, nearly empty room. He can shout very loud.

"Why are you upset?" You shout back, feeling frustration and anger rise in your chest. What the fucking hell was his problem?! Why the fuck was he being like this? You and him and John and the others had been having a good time these past few days, and tonight you were going to watch a movie with him and the others. So what the fuck happened? Your fucking eye color?!

"We're same, Dave!" He looks ready to punch you, and instinctively your own fists clench, "Blind! You! Can you not see color? Same! Mutant!"

"What the fuck do you mean by mutant?" Your tone has reached harsh levels.

Karkat yanks your arm and brings a nail to cut at your skin, and a few drops of your blood, only slightly darker than his, appear. He shoves your arm back at you, looking triumphant.

"At home..." He stretches his own cut arms out to show you, and yet keeping a distance of three feet now, "It's just me. Only...Me. It's so lonely. Just me. Do you know feeling, Dave?"

You stare back at him, eyes sliding down to stare at his arms. The blood is drying a bit, but there's still fresh blood oozing from the wounds. It doesn't smell like copper, like your own blood, but distinctly...Candy? You register his question, before crossing your own arms and looking up at him, staring him in the face. You keep eye contact as you nod and say,

"Yeah. Pretty sure I fucking know what that feels like. Do you know what it's like in my motherfucking life? Before here, I met John and the others online. I was fucking alone at home, but I was surrounded by people. And yet, I felt isolated, you know? My only fucking friends were online, and they were so fucking far away. It motherfucking sucks."

Karkat cocks his head to the side. The tears have dried up by now, and the look of betrayal and loss has vanished. It's replaced with curiosity. You clench and unclench your fists again and again as you have his full attention. The two of you have talked to one another for about four months now, and you've told him nearly everything about you. Your love for your turntables, sick music, being disturbed by your bro's puppets, everything. But you've purposely left out your home life. There's so many things that had gone down. Dirk had been a bit of an abusive caretaker. Kids teased you endlessly in school. You spent many nights alone with only your turntables and motherfucking nude puppets everywhere. Your life sucked.

You're pretty sure someone, somewhere, has had it worse, but right now, the fury from all those months that has been building up is at the peak of the shit mountain right now.

"I've spent most of my life living in my brother's shadow. Nearly everything I like, I get from him. I'm  motherfucking clone. I don't feel like my own person," You allow yourself to look away from Karkat for a moment, because his face does not convey pity or sympathy or any of those shit emotions you're used to, but instead they are filled with childish curiosity, too much like a kid for your liking. It only makes your anger boil more.

You walk away from Karkat, glaring down at the untouched, cold bed lying in the middle of the room. Your sword is in your room that you share John, but you can probably still kick it. You just really want to destroy something right now. You look back up only to see Karkat is standing right next to you, pulling his sleeves down to cover up his scars. With hesitance, he raises a hand up to your mouth and hisses, “Shhhhhh.”

You raise an eyebrow at the action, but he pats you on the back before reaching his arms around your waist and pulling himself into you for a hug. Due to the height difference, his face is buried in your chest, and he seems to still be shooshing. You too wrap a single arm around his shoulder area before he pulls away, staring up at you with confusion in his eyes. You’re about to ask him something, but he seems confused with himself, not you, and backs away, looking down with his hands raised to his head, as if attempting to hide behind them.

Your PDA blinks with a notification, and when you look down you see there’s a messages from Dirk telling you to come to the base room. Something about code. You roll your eyes and awkwardly give a little wave towards Karkat before crossing the room to the door.

You have no idea why, but for some reason, all the anger you had felt seconds before had dissipated after Karkat did his little “shh and hug” deal. You look back at Karkat, who is sitting on the edge of the bed with wide eyes.

“Hello, Dave.”

You smile. It’s adorakbly cute that he still doesn’t know that goodbye is what you say to someone who’s leaving.

But you’re perfectly okay with ‘Hello, Dave.’


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *MIKE BREAKS THE FOURTH WALL MAJORLY FOR A MOMENT*
> 
> -aspiringExtermination has begun pestering ao3Reader-
> 
> AE: I majorly suk at writing Rose. Very majorly. This isn't even funny. Like what the fuk bro why kan't I write Rose. So sorry! :(( I apologize if she is very out of kharakter or something. Dirk, Rose, and Dave, are like the only kharakters I kan't write in Homestuk. (And Eridan) So sorry! :((
> 
> -aspiringExtermination has ceased pestering ao3Reader-

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

~tentacleTherapist has begun pestering turntechGodhead~

TT: Something is bothering you.

TG: that was fast

TT: Dave, please. I've told you I'm training to be a psychologist.

TT: What kind of psychologist would I be if I couldn't tell when one of my friends was feeling down?

TG: a pretty fucking terrible one

TT: Exactly.

TT: Tell me what is bothering you. In precise detail.

TG: karkat

TT: And?

TT: You there?

TG: sorry bros telling me to do stuff right now

TT: Is this a bad time?

TG: nah

TG: go ape shit in your weird psychological stuff

TT: So what's the matter with Karkat?

TG: everything

TT: Can you be specific on that.

TG: lots of things

TT: Little more specific.

TG: things

TT: Come on baby, closer.

TG: he hugged me

TT: Bingo.

TT: This is a problem why?

TG: well its just

TG: i feel confused

TT: I thought you were blatantly aware of your homosexuality.

TG: fucking pan man

TG: p to the a to the n-s-e-x-u-a-l-i-t-y

TT: When have you ever shown affection for a woman?

TG: did you forget about roxy or

TG: what

TT: How could I ever forget the schoolboy obsession crush you had on her three years ago?

TG: im over that shit now

TT: I was joking about homosexuality. I know you’re pan.

TT: Ever since John.

TG: shhhh

TG: we dont talk about john

TG: im lucky hes still even friends with me lets not bring that up

TG: or i will fucking roll in front of a car and let it flatten me

TG: like a pancake on the grill

TG: forever flattened

TT: You don’t put pancakes on a grill.

TG: shut up

TT: Okay, so explain to me why this is still all confusing for you.

TG: hes an alien

TT: Your point?

TG: imagine dirk

TT: Hell will break loose.

TG: exactly

TG: like i know he wont have a problem with the homo because that guy is the most homo man i have ever fucking laid eyes on especially for english

TG: but i think being homo for the karkat will be crossing the metaphorical line

TT: Being homo for the Karkat will be crossing the metaphorical line.

TG: which is kinda why i dont want the metaphorical line to exist

TG: or at least not have the karkat be crossing it

TT: Why are we referring to him as if he’s an object?

TG: i dont know

TG: the karkat would be displeased if he saw this

TT: Extremely.

TG: you dont seem freaked out by the homo feelings i feels for the karkat

TT: I am not freaked out by the feels for the Karkat.

TT: In fact, I’m surprised you just haven’t kissed him already.

TG: what

TG: explain

TT: You get along with Karkat and spend the most time with him.

TG: that could just mean we are bfffs

TG: best fucking friends forever

TT: Perhaps I am the only one who has caught on to the homoeroticness between you two.

TG: well you are the one with the gay wizard fan fiction

TT: Indeed I am.

TT: But I have been observing you two closely, even looking at your chats. Karkat tells you things that he wouldn’t tell me or any of the others.

TG: the perks of being a bfff

TT: In fact, he seems extremely relaxed around you. As a training psychologist, I think this plus a few other details clearly points to some sort of romance.

TG: the fault in our psychology

TT: I was actually expecting either you or him to make a move on one another some time soon.

TG: if karkat stays

TT: Are you going to keep responding in book titles?

TG: i didnt even realize i was doing it

TT: Well now you do.

TT: Now, what exactly happened in the room?

TG: shit

TT: Shit happened?

TG: no shit i have to go my bro is being a cockblock

TG: see ya

TT: Goodbye.

~tentacleTherapist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead~

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

You are confused as holy fuck. Confused by the feelings you feel. You’re not exactly sure what the fuck is going on here and why you were subjected to fall for a fucking human. If your friends could see you know, you’re sure they would be utterly disgusted with you, and you would be called a traitor to your own kind. A war of ‘Moirail? Matesprit?’ is going on in your head and you just seriously want to pass out right then and now to stop these trains of thought, but doing so would most likely cause a nightmare. Most of your worst nightmares happen when you are stressed, after all.

Dave had left about two hours ago, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and they alone nearly made you want to off yourself. Glancing down at the candy-color dripping from your forearm, you feel a tad bit dizzy. Why the hell did you think it would be a good idea to slice open your own skin? A feeling had taken over you a few minutes ago as your placed your nail on your flesh to continue carving out the word, and a trickle of excitement had filled you as watched the first beads of blood appear. That excitement was quickly replaced with horror and mortification over the fact that you would ever feel excited over that.

But you hadn’t been able to stop, and you crudely carved the remaining letters into your gray skin. The ‘T’ looked a bit off, however. This thought crosses your mind but you shake it away, feeling horrified with yourself. You had torn a strip of fabric from the useless spread covering the stupid human bed with your teeth and wrapped it tightly over the bleeding wounds, but you still felt sickly. You rub your shoulders, and either know the room was warm, you felt cold. Chilled from the inside, as if someone had filled you up with ice.

After a few minutes of an internal battle with yourself, you decide to lay in your nest, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes, before you close them and will yourself to fall asleep. For a few minutes you are blatantly aware that nothing is happening and that you are stuck in a sort of limbo, before everything becomes sharpened and refined and you are standing in a line. To your left is Terezi. To your right is Eridan. Fanning out on the gold-colored beach is you and your friends, and they all seem to be staring at the ocean. You step forward and Terezi shifts ever so slightly, but none of the others move. You walk towards the ocean, which is not the ocean. No. It’s a sea of...Of solid colors. It should be impossible, they should be blending in together, but it’s as if they had different densities- swirls of olive green glided past indigo, and a bright fuchsia seemed to be attempting to merge with violet.

It’s a sea of blood.

You spin around to face your friends, and you are greeted with something you haven’t noticed before. Terezi’s eyes are red and blank, and the dragon cane she uses that’s actually a sword is inside her stomach, the hilt pushing against the fabric of her shirt while the actual blade tore through her back and teal-colored blood welled from the wound. Eridan has blank and glassy eyes, with his own blood gushing from his mouth, ears, nose, everywhere. There is a fine trail of mucus over the front of his shredded shirt. Kanaya looked as if someone had run her through a pole several times-gaping holes dotted her body to reveal the half-functioning organs inside as her jaw lolls, the sinew that held it together sliced. The farther along the line you let your eyes travel, the more mortifying the sights became.

The very worse was Vriska at the end, with one of her eyes dangling from a few strands still attached within her think pan, her lower jaw looking as if had been completely ripped off and leaving behind a bloody mess. She has no shirt and there was a perfectly straight line cut through the middle of her chest, and it looks as if someone had forced her flesh to the sides to get a good look at her skeleton, lungs, heart, and livers within. You feel bile rise up your throat and you gag violently, bringing a hand to your stomach. You were going to be sick.

Bringing up a hand to run through your hair in an attempt to calm yourself down, you suddenly feel your heart rate pick up, and you give a gasp as it elevates beyond normal pace. You bring your hand down to clutch at your chest, feeling it pound at you within. You choke on your own breath as it begins beating so fast it's a miracle you haven’t suffered a heart attack yet. Unwillingly, you feel your fingers push against your ribcage, as if you are being controlled by another source, and your ribcage bends t a little from the force from within and outside.

You were trying to rip your heart out.

You let out a scream. Your fingers push deeper, and already bruises are forming. Your ribcage is quickly buckling as you push deeper and deeper, and-

And then someone is shaking you awake. Your eyes fly open, heart racing (at a normal heart-racing pace, thank gog) and you are looking up at Dave. You take a moment to comprehend what just happened, and let out a terrified shriek that causes him to leap backwards in surprise. You’re panting, you're still internally screaming at the horror your imagination had managed to produce. When you calm down to the point where your breaths begin to steady, Dave crouches down, concerned, and at once you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself into him.

He was your anchor for the moment, the one thing that was letting you know you were truly awake and this wasn’t a nightmare. He rubs one of your horns, but you’re still too terrified to even purr. Your eyes burn, but you hold back any tears you have. You are involuntarily digging your nails into Dave’s shoulder, and you don’t notice until he winces. You finally let go and look up at him, and you can tell his eyes have widened from behind his shades. He asks you what’s wrong, but you are unable to answer.

You feel broken. You feel like a shattered mirror. Any thought you have instantly becomes shredded into wisps of nothingness. You feel as if you could just stare blankly at the wall the whole day and do nothing. You reach a hand up to your ribcage, to massage the place where you had attempted to rip your own heart out, and a flash of horror overcomes you. The area feels bumpy. You bring your hands to the bottom of your sweater and you pull it over your head, ignoring Dave’s sudden sputtering, and bring a hand to your ribcage again. One quick look down and your eyes widen.

There are little indentions where your fingers had been pressing, dark bruises beginning to form, and now that you are truly realizing it, it hurts. It fucking hurts.

You look up at Dave, jaw dropping open, but for some reason you can’t scream. This is too horrifying to even think about conjuring up a scream. Dave crouches low, obviously panicked.

“Kar-Karkat bro, you okay?” He stares at you, his shades slipping forward on his nose slightly. You just realize how many freckles he has.

You can’t answer, only stare at him, closing your mouth after a bit as you continue to rub at the indentions lightly. Nothing makes sense.

“Karkat….You’re...Fucking freaking me out,” Dave doesn’t bother to push his shades up, and he opens his mouth to say more, but he quickly shuts it again when you place a hand on his own ribcage. Over his own heart.

It’s beating is rapid, showing his panic, but his ribcage seems whole. There is no damage inflicted upon it.

You wonder if the same can be said about his think pan. Does he have horrors and nightmares haunting his head? Does he experience things like you do due to him be a mutant, just like you?

Your fingernails dig slightly into his skin, and he winces. Your nails must have pushed against the fabric of his shirt. You pull your hand away, and he brings his own to your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye. When he pulls it away, you can see a salmon-colored liquid dripping down it. You had been crying without realizing it.

“I’m guessing….You don’t want to watch a movie right now?” Dave asks. To his evident surprise, you nod. He nods, and after a moment, stands up, offering you a hand. You take it, staggering to your feet. You realize your shirt is still on the ground and that you’re shirtless right next to him.

“Daaaaaaaaave! Dave!” A voice suddenly shouts, and you both turn to see John barging in, eyes wide with excitement, “We’re gonna watch Tita-Oh.”

His eyes widen even more (if it’s possible) and a smug smirk crosses his face. You want to rip his head off. With your teeth.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Oh god,” Dave clenches his hair, staring at your bare chest, “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Hahahahaha! Oh my god! Dave and Karkat, sittin’ in a tree, HOMO-SEX-UALI-”

“Shut it, Egbert!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *MIKE BREAKS THE FOURTH WALL AGAIN*
> 
> -aspiringExtermination has begun pestering ao3Reader-
> 
> AE: I'm sorry I'm a little shit and never reply to komments (hi Johann XD) but from this khapter onwards I promise I will try to reply to every single one. :)) Thanks guys!
> 
> -aspiringExtermination has ceased pestering ao3Reader-


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *G4SP* WH4T 1S TH1S? 4 CH4PT3R NOT FROM K4RK4T'S OR D4V3'S P3RSP3CT1V3...? 1NT3R3ST1NG >:]

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

~gardenGnostic has begun pestering tentacleTherapist~

GG: rose!

GG: are you alone again?

TT: No.

GG: are you lying?

TT: No.

GG: you are!

GG: why do you keep locking yourself in your room? :(

TT: Well you and John are playing a video game.

TT: Dave is doing god knows what with Karkat.

GG: theyre watching the titanic!

GG: john and i were going too as well but we decided not to :(

TT: I’d rather not cry for a hour because of Jack and Rose.

GG: the ship has sunk.

GG: i realized this is both metaphorical and literal.

TT: I would just rather be alone right now.

GG: awwww. :( but you can always tell me when something is wrong okay! :)

TT: You’re a good friend.

GG: thanks! :D

TT: I just want you to know I appreciate it.

TT: Your friendship.

TT: John and Dave’s too.

TT: And Karkat isn’t too bad.

GG: um.

GG: rose?

GG: you okay?

TT: I’m fine! Really!

GG:....

GG: okay. :(

GG: ill talk to you later.

GG: okay?

TT: No need, I’m fine. I swear it.

~gardenGnostic has ceased pestering tentacleTherapist~

You set your computer down from where you’ve been balancing it on your hip and turn to face the mirror, puckering your lips slightly and staring at your reflection. You know it sounds typical and teenager-y, but for the past few weeks you’ve really been pondering your existence. You had no idea you relied on your friends so much, but once John began hanging out with Jade more due to Dave spending so much of his time with Karkat, it’s left you as the third wheel. You mean, the fifth wheel.

You’d spent a lot of time in the room you shared with Jade, occasionally getting up to join in with the others in doing whatever activities they happened to be doing-playing Monopoly, having a pillow fight, plain out annoying Jane to tease her. But you’d always felt left out. You’d told yourself boo-hoo, get over yourself, this is normal, everybody has friends, you’re not the only one who exists. But these days just kept getting lonelier and lonelier.

So lonely, in fact, you’d started chatting to random people on the Internet, which is something you’d never done before. Dave had approached you first on Pesterchum, who introduced you to Jade, and later John came into the picture. You didn’t talk to anybody else, only them.

Now, you’re alone, and you don’t feel like talking to anybody. In fact, you would rather just-

Your computer dings.

Who was it now?  
  


~tipsyGnostalgic has begun pestering tentacleTherapist~

TG: rose!

TG: roooooooose!

TG: rose whats the matter :(

TG: rose im worried

TG: see im even sober

TG: rose youre so shut in

TG: youre just like

TG: youre just like karkat the only person he talks to is dave

TG: well he talks to me too sometimes but

TG: rooooooose

TG: rose never fall in love with a guy named jack

TG: are you talking to that girl on the internet again

TG: the one you told me about

TG: roooooose are you in love

TG: lol thats so cute

TG: just so you know im totally fine if youre in lesbians with another girl

TG: lol okay

TG: bye

~tipsyGnostalgic has ceased pestering tentacleTherapist~

You roll your eyes slightly at your older sister, who was on the verge of turning nineteen soon. Very recently she had started calling herself ‘Queen Roxy’, a joke she and Dave seemed to share, and for some reason you felt as if had something to do with Karkat. Everything seemed to have to do with Karkat these days. Not that you’re complaining, he’s kind of a cutie, but still. After a few minutes of staring in the mirror and prodding and poking at your appearance, you sit on the edge of your bed and leaf through a few of your journals.

They’re filled, every page, every line, every available space, with wizardfics. When you were maybe eleven to about fourteen you were super obsessed with wizards and this was the only thing you could think to do-Write stupid wizard fanfiction. Now that you’re a little older you’ve convinced yourself that was merely a phase, but you still like to look over them every now and then. Only today your fics seem boring and predictable, extremely...Uninviting. As if the reader would pick it up, read the first sentence, then set it down with a firm ‘Nope.’

You throw your journal angrily across the room, getting sickened by your main character’s antics. Really, what gave you the idea to make him such a stubborn trouble-maker?! The journal hits the bookshelf and a few books fall from their places, cascading down onto the ground and causing your frustration to grow. You literally just cleaned this place up after it looked like a dump for maybe six months. You had really just shoved all your knitting into a drawer, so most wouldn’t consider it ‘cleaning’, but at least the floor was cleared. Used to be, anyways.

Your computer dings again and you turn your head towards it, looking at the blue text being displayed.

~ectoBiologist has begun pestering tentacleTherapist~

EB: rose!

EB: rose.

EB: rose.

EB: rose.

EB: rose.

EB: i will keep doing this until you answer!

EB: or not.

EB: actually jade is really kicking my ass here in smash bro’s.

EB: but rose!

EB: please answer :(

EB: ugh, i’ve got to go.

EB: rose answer soon!

~ectoBiologist has ceased pestering tentacleTherapist~

You get up, frustration filling you. You knew once they found out why you were being so shut-in lately, they would do everything they could to spend time with you, but then forget about you in a week. Karkat trailed after Dave like a lost puppy and Dave catered to his every emotional need. John and Jade were more interested in playing video games together then to invite you to watch a movie or play a game with them. You’d join in their video gaming, but there were only two controllers, and there were enough wars already regarding who would take which one.

When you look back at your life, you cringe. You’ve always been the good girl, the one who sat in the front of the class and knew the answer to everything, who never picked fights, and although she could be sassy as fuck sometimes, never said her comments aloud. She had her short hair styled neatly and held back with a headband. She wore nice clothes that didn’t look like a nerd’s but not a rich kid’s either. Sure, she might have been a little weird, being the only girl who dared wear black lipstick to school and writing the wizardfics in her spare time, but she had been a good girl.

But you’re not her anymore. No. You’re suddenly feeling rebellious. As if Rose Lalonde could suddenly just not be that good little girl. Your hands tighten as you cross the room and turn on the speaker that was on Jade’s dresser, flipping through the iPod tracks until you find a song you like. Despite you playing the violin, you rather enjoyed stuff like this.

The music begins playing as you stand in the middle of the room, eyes scanning the bookcase, the dresser, the computer sitting atop your bed, everything.

_“You wake up late for school, man you don’t want to go!_

_You ask your mom, please? But she stills says no!”_

The first thing you do is take the violin sitting on your bed and flip the case open. You’ve always hated this thing. You played purely because your mother would be proud if you did, and now with all this rage boiling inside of you, you feel the need to smash it against something.

_“You missed two classes, and no homework._

_But your teacher preaches class like you’re some kind of jerk!”_

When the violin hits the wall and the fragile wood splinters into pieces, the tugging in your gut feels strangely satisfied. It takes a few seconds for you to snap the now in half, but when you do, you toss it to the other side of the room. Your computer dings, and you grab it, completely ignoring the message someone had sent you and throwing it across the room with so much force that it places a hole in the wall it hits, the computer itself definitely not going to be reusable.

Stupid friends. Stupid mom. Stupid Roxy. Stupid everything.

_“You gotta fight_

_For your right_

_To paaaaaaaarty!”_

You pull all of the books out of your book case and toss them in piles behind you, before spinning around and kicking them in various directions. One of your wizardfics, your favorite one in fact catches your eye, and suddenly you hate it. You hate the protagonist, he’s too powerful, you hate the love interest, she’s too two-dimensional, you hate the plot, why would one waste so much time in trying to find a stupid glass wand? You sink to your knees and take it in your hand, opening to the first page. Your eyes skim over the first sentence and the rage is fed like a fire.

_“Your pop caught you smoking, and he said, no way!_

_The hypocrite smokes two packs a day!”_

You rip page after page out, before just full out ripping the journal in half. You throw the paper into the air as if it were confetti and get to your feet, placing your hands underneath the surface of your desk and attempting to flip it. Alas, you are not strong enough, and the most you accomplish is pain in your shoulders and back.

_“Man, living at home is such a drag._

_Now, your mom threw away your best porno mag!”_

When you see your reflection in the mirror, it makes you angrier. You’ve destroyed half of your possessions by now, and yet you still look somewhat like that good girl, with her straight, neat hair and headband and nice make up. You pull the headband out of your hair and throw it in the trashcan with too much force, so it overturns. You run your hands through your hair, ruffling it up, until it’s a bit of a poofy mess. You run your sleeve down the corner of your mouth, smearing your lipstick all over your face.

_“You gotta fight for your right_

_To paaaaaaaarty!_

_You gotta fight!”_

There. Now you don’t look so much like the good girl. That good girl is locked away inside of you for now, and you’ll only release her when you see fit. You stare at your purple-colored eyes, and smile when you see they are not their usual bright color, but an unnatural grim hue. It makes you look more like what you’re feeling. Bloody, raw rage.

_“Don’t step out of this house if that’s the clothes you’re gonna wear!_

_I’ll kick you out of my home if you don’t cut that hair!”_

The demolition of your room nearly lasts the entirety of the song, and when the last word-Paaaaaartyyyyy-fades out, you stand in the middle of the wreckage of you and Jade’s room. You’re panting and you’re absolutely dreading telling Jade exactly what happened her. The next song starts as you sink onto your bed, laying down on your back and pulling out your PDA from a back pocket.

You glance at your messages, seeing if anybody had pestered you in your rage, and indeed they had. A few weeks ago a girl had pestered you, and you both quickly struck up a friendship. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of her chumhandle before, however, you can’t think of where.

 

~grimAuxiliatrix has begun pestering tentacleTherapist~

GA: Rose

GA: I Read The Link You Sent Me Last Time

GA: It Was Quite Interesting

GA: Thought It Was A Bit Far Fetched

GA: As Far As Theories Go

GA: Rose?

GA: Rose Are You Busy?

GA: If You Are I Shall Stop Pestering You

TT: Hi Kanaya.

GA: Oh

GA: Hello

TT: I’m not feeling good today.

TT: Could you just.

TT: Leave me alone for a couple of hours?

GA: Whats The Matter?

TT: Life.

GA: I See

GA: Not Really Actually

GA: Explain?

TT: Sorry but.

TT: I just want.

TT: To be alone.

TT: Okay?

GA: Okay

GA: If You Wish It So

GA: I Just Had Something Very Important To Tell You

GA: But Im Not Sure If You Would Want To Hear It Right Now

GA: Or Take To It Very Well At All

TT: Probably not.

GA: So I Guess I Will Talk To You Later

GA: Good Bye

~grimAuxiliatrix has ceased pestering tentacleTherapist~

 

You allow your PDA to drop onto your bed and tuck your arms behind your head, staring up blankly at the white ceiling, alone with your own thoughts. You should regret destroying everything that you did, but you could care less at the moment. You just feel really sleepy. You close your eyes as the chorus of the song hits, one you really like.

_“I kissed a girl, and I liked it,_

_the taste of her cherry chapstick,_

_I kissed a girl just to try it,_

_I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it._

_It felt so wrong_

_It felt so right._

_Don’t mean I’m in love tonight._

_I kissed a girl and I liked it. (I liked it.)”_

**  
  
**


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You refuse to cry by the end of the movie, but you allow a single tear to escape. Just one. Oh my god it was beautiful.You’d always been into romances, but this was spectacular. You wonder why there was no troll version of this on Alternia, because this was fucking beauty. You look up at Dave, who was a straight face, but you see the tiny tear running down his cheek. Even the Strider can’t hold it in. After a few moments he looks back down at you as well and you realize just how close your face is to his. You're curled up by his side because the room is cold and your forearm still stings, and one of his arms is draped across the back of the couch casually. You stretch out your legs before adjusting yourself so your head is lying in Dave’s lap.

He looks down at you, before smirking and bopping you on the nose. You scrunch up your face in discomfort and when he laughs, you scowl. It’s really comfortable in his lap and the lack of sleep from earlier makes it an extremely alluring sleeping place. You let your eyes close but they fly open when he bops your nose again. You squint at him, before sitting up and scooting to the other end of the couch. The two of you are alone, Roxy having drifted off to bed an hour again and Dirk growing bored with the movie after twenty minutes.

Dave offers you some of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which you decline. He however, insistently shoves it towards you, so you sigh and begrudgingly accept. You take a bite and scowl slightly as the peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth. It’s fucking annoying to eat these things and have all that peanut butter sticking everywhere. You chew, and Dave snickers. You raise an eyebrow and huff out, “Fucking what?”

He scoots closer to you, bringing his thumb to his mouth and licking it. You watch his tongue briefly swirl over his skin before he places his thumb over the corner of your mouth, dragging it across your chin. When he pulls it away, you see you had some of the jelly on the side of your mouth. Fucking brilliant. You run your sleeve over your mouth, for it felt like some of it was still on there, and Dave scoots closer again, chuckling.

“You still got a tiny bit of jelly,” He says, one palm on your jaw so he can wipe underneath your mouth easier. Your eyes flit up towards his and you are suddenly aware of the proximity of his face to yours. His sunglasses slip down his nose a bit, and you reach up, sliding them off his face. He blinks in surprise, but doesn’t protest as you put the glasses on yourself with a smile. Dave laughs a bit and pushes the sunglasses off your face to settle them in your hair. You don’t understand why he likes wearing these things, it makes your vision dark and shaded, but you suppose that’s the whole point.

You’re pretty sure your face was rid of jelly a while ago, but Dave’s thumb is still rubbing at the corner of your mouth, palm still pressed to your jaw. Your noses is an inch from his. You can count exactly how many freckles he has sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. His eyes are a bright red, similar to cherries.

His breath is really warm.

There’s a cough, and a voice says,

“Am I interrupting something?”

Dave stiffens, then pulls his hand from your face and turns his head slowly to see Dirk, standing there with his glasses also pushed up to his head, sweaty and worn out. You shake your head, but Dave doesn’t respond. His shoulders are hunched. He looks as if he’s ready to murder a bitch.

There’s an awkward silence that ensues, and you stare down at your hands. They are suddenly very interesting. Not as interesting as it was to have Dave’s face as close as it was to your own. You screw your eyes shut, commanding yourself to stop thinking thoughts like those. You wonder if Dave is having thoughts like these.

The weight next to you lifts and you open your eyes to see Dave striding across the room towards the hallway, his voice rigid as a board as he says, “Later, Karkat.”

You stare after him before getting to your own feet. Dirk leads you back towards the lab, to your respiteblock. It’s eleven fifty, and you’re not allowed to be out past midnight.

You watch as he leaves, and your mind wanders. It wanders to Dave Striders. It wanders to what you almost had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~timaeusTestified has begun pestering turntechGodhead~

TT:Someone was acting like a bitch tonight.

TG: leave me alone

TT: You’re not supposed to just leave behind a bro like that. Things could get awkward.

TG: oh my god

TT: You’re supposed to say cheesy romance shit.

TG: can you just stop

TG: im serious right here i am not in the mood for fucking around with fucks who dont give fucks

TG: extra fucking

TT: You’re supposed to say “I love you.” Have I taught you nothing?

TG: SHUT UP I FUCKING HATE YOU

TT: Sudden use of caps is sudden.

TG: EVERY TIME I FUCKING GET CLOSE TO ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING WITH MY BEST BRO YOU AND YOUR STUPID UGLY ASS FACE COMES INTO THE ROOM AND COCKBLOCKS WORSE THAN A MOTHERFUCKING CONDOM

TT: Excuse me, sir. We don’t use foul language like that.

TG: FUCK YOU

TG: LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE

TT: Someone’s PMSing.

TG: FUCK YOU TWICE

~timaeusTestified has ceased pestering turntechGodhead~

You nearly throw the PDA across the room, and even now you’re clenching it with so much force you’re surprised the thing has yet to snap in half. You grit your teeth, eyes burning slightly. You want to cry, but you’re not going to. Cool guys don’t cry. You’re cool as shit and you are not going to cry. You’ve practiced this before. All the bullies at school. Every shit who’s hurt you. Don’t cry.

Amazingly, you manage to keep it all in, even though this time you just really really want to cry. Like it would be the best solution at this moment. Your PDA dings and you nearly throw it again, but instead you look down at who is messaging you and are surprised by what you see.

~carcinoGeneticist has begun pestering turntechGodhead~

CG: SO

CG: UM

CG: THIS IS KIND OF AWKWARD.

CG: DON’T TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY BUT I WANT TO MURDER YOUR BROTHER.

TG: me too

CG: HE’S AN EVEN BIGGER ASSHOLE THAN THIS ONE GUY I KNEW BACK AT HOME.

CG: BUT WE’RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT.

TG: hm

CG: SO I AM GOING TO GUESS YOU’RE PISSED OFF AS HELL.

CG: I AM TOO.

CG: BUT I GUESS YOU HAVE MORE OF A REASON TOO.

TG: yeah

CG: LIKE YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TO *LIVE* WITH HIM.

CG: HOW DID YOU DO THAT FOR SO MANY SWEEPS.

CG: I WOULD HAVE SNAPPED LIKE A WOODEN STICK.

TG: sure

CG: OBVIOUSLY YOU ARE NOT UP FOR TALKING.

CG: CAN I JUST LIKE ASK. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT BACK THERE?

CG: I AM GETTING MIXED SIGNALS FROM YOU, STRIDER.

TG: huh

CG: I MEAN NOT REALLY ACTUALLY.

CG: GOD FUCKING DAMN IT THIS IS SO AWKWARD.

CG: IT’S TOO AWKWARD.

CG: NORMALLY I’D BE FLYING OFF MY FUCKING HANDLE BECAUSE OF AWKWARD AND CONFUSING THIS IS.

CG: BUT I THINK I’M WANTING THIS AS MUCH AS YOU DO.

CG: WHATEVER THAT IS.

TG: thats cool

CG: YOU’RE NOT GOING TO REPLY IN ANYTHING ELSE ARE YOU?

TG: no

TG: i just need like some alone time right now

TG: as alone as fucking

TG: damn it i cant even think of something to link to that im just too

TG: i hate everything

CG: WELCOME TO THE CLUB.

CG: I GUESS I’LL JUST. STOP BOTHERING YOU NOW.

CG: AND

CG: I STILL HAVE YOUR SUNGLASSES.

CG: OKAY?

TG: yeah okay

CG: OKAY.

~carcinoGeneticist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead~

Your bro is attempting to contact you again, but you shove your PDA under your pillow and refuse to answer. You don’t need his shit right now.

You told yourself not to cry. But you do anyways.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

You sugarcoated the story of why exactly you destroyed you and Jade’s room, but she’s still a bit angry with you. You lie in bed, after spending nearly an hour trying to clean up the room a little. You had definitely cooled down by now, and was willing to talk more to your internet friend.

~tentacleTherapist has begun pestering grimAuxiliatrix~

TT: Kanaya.

TT: I’m able to talk now.

TT: Kanaya?

GA: Yes Im Here

GA: Sorry I Was Talking To A Couple Of My Other Friends

TT: Wow. Now I’m jealous.

TT: What are their names?

GA: So How Was Your Day

TT: Obvious avoidance of question peaks my interest.

GA: Sorry Im Not Comfortable Sharing That Information

TT: Yet you’re comfortable in telling me exactly what you look like.

GA: Well

GA: Yes

GA: For Reasons

TT: Honestly you sound very pretty, I don’t know why you’re so modest.

GA: I Guess I Am

GA: Fine

TT: Believe in yourself.

TT: Crap, I’m repeating my sister’s shitty one-liners.

GA: Rose Enough Joking Around For Now

GA: I Have

GA: Serious Matters

GA: In Which I Need To Discuss With You

TT: Hit me.

GA: Er

GA: Id Rather Not

TT: It was a figure of speech, Kanaya.

TT: I swear sometimes you seem like you come from a different planet or something.

GA: Well About That

GA: Rose

GA: I Dont Mean To Trouble You

GA: I Have Made Very Good Friends With You These Past Few Weeks

GA: I Quite Enjoy Your Company

GA: But I Need To Tell You

GA: I Am In Fact An Alien

GA: I Am Here With My Friends In Search Of Another One Of Our Friends Who Was Banned Here

GA: Karkat Vantas

GA: I Have Learned English Through Videos On AlterniaTube

GA: And Acquired Your Friendship

GA: Which Is One Of The Best Things To Happen To Me On This Forsaken Ship

GA: We Come Peacefully And Mean No Threat

GA: We Just Want Our Friend Back

GA: Youre Wondering Why Im Telling You This But I Just Dont Want You To Be Alarmed

GA: I Think

GA: We Will Arrive In A Few Days

GA: Rose

GA: Are You Still There

Your PDA had been dropped. You stare blankly at the space where it had once occupied in your hands, heart thudding. No. No. No this was a prank. A joke. A horrible, badly-timed joke.

But how would she know about Karkat?  You haven’t told her anything. You’d been her friend for a little more than a month, and honestly she was such a refreshing change to everything in your life. You liked her well enough, though she seemed a bit strange sometimes, but then again, who wasn’t?  
But right now, your mind is loaded with mindfuck.

Holy shit.

_What just happened?_


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

After a while of your face being pressed into your pillow, long after John had sidled into the room pouting about Jade’s constant wins, you roll over onto your back and stare at the ceiling, one hand tucked behind your head. Dirk was an asshole sometimes and you know that, but of all the times he could have been asshole, it had to be then.

Your mind wanders to how close you two were. You and Karkat were practically sharing the same breath. Then Dirk walked in and the rest was historical like a T-Rex. Your hand rubs over your face in agitation. You had been expecting him to blow up in a rage. Hell, you’d prefer if he blew up in a rage! Not just being a dickwad asshole like he was. You have no idea how Jake puts up with him. But then again, sometimes Jake could be so self-absorbed you think he and Dirk are a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You pull your PDA from underneath your pillow and see three messengers attempting to contact you-Dirk, Roxy, Rose. You ignore Dirk and pick Roxy, seeing her messages from about thirty minutes ago.

~tipsyGnostalgic has begun pestering turntechGodhead~

TG: dave

TG: daaave

TG: omf dave

TG: like will you answer

TG: im bored af

TG: and dirk told me what happened

TG: just so you know

TG: dirk is a dick

TG: just sayin

TG: dave

TG: you there

TG: im gonna go get a drink

TG: davw

TG: umalready so wastef

TG: *wasted

TG: this shiet is strong

TG: hell my mom is tougb cookie if she can handle this

TG: dave

TG: im tired

TG: sup

TG: oh hey your alibw

TG: *alive

TG: yes i am and i rise from the dead like jesus on a fucking motorbike

TG: sexy af

TG: if big j was riding in a mitorbike it would be sexy af

TG: it would be hella cool

TG: but yeah liak i said dirk ais a dick

TG: you and kitkat were so close

TG: *karket lol

TG: yeah um

TG: can we just

TG: not

TG: omg waht if you two got married!!!

TG: oh god

TG: please no

TG: oh godd plz yes

TG: were gonna have a red thame weddin

TG: and losts if alckehol

TG: whos gonna be the brude

TG: dave you should be the brude you will look sexy af in a wedading dress

TG: roxy that is a kick ass plan and all but

TG: omg can i be abridesmaid

TG: no wait jade and rose can be breds maydes ill be tha fucking maid of honor

TG: hell yeah

TG: john is best man no exepcions

TG: *exepctions

TG: *exceptions damn it

TG: roxy

TG: were gonna have red n white rose cause that shit is te bomb

TG:  and you should totes has a choclote cake

TG: *chocolat

TG: unless you like vaniilla thats fine to

TG: ROXY

TG: dave whagt kind pf music should we have

TG: some a your sick beats

TG: my little bou is growin up so fast its bringing taers to my eyes

TG: → :,) crying

TG: i am so queen at planning weddings

TG: so queen

TG: ROXY

TG: WE ARENT GETTING MARRIED

TG: but if we do there must be apple juice

TG: waht are u talking about of curse youre getting married

TG: youre going t honemoon i vegas

TG: its where all the stuff hippens ;) wonkwonkwonk

TG: roxy

TG: no

TG: roxy yes

TG: im not gonna lie and say i wouldnt want to do that one day but im fucking sixteen

TG: have you had a wet dream yeat

TG: this escalated quickly

TG: lol yep

TG: you know what

TG: im done

~turntechGodhead has blocked tipsyGnostalgic~

You will unblock her later, when she’s not drowning in homoerotic fantasy. Unwillingly, your mind wanders into a corner you think of frequently, but never before have you brought Karkat into it. You knew these trolls had tentacles, which was kind of off-putting but that doesn’t matter. For once you imagine Karkat when he had been carving the words into his flesh. You distract yourself from the bloodied mess on his flesh and focus more on why he had been doing it.

You still don’t understand why he cut MUTANT into himself, but when you think about it, while discussing the blood caste systems, his blood color never came up. Did his blood make him a pariah? Well that was fucking stupid-pink blood doesn’t mean shit, same for all those other blood colors.

Your thoughts avert from the topic, and you focus on how he was shirtless. He was skinny and there was something strange about the shape of his torso. You imagine him laying next to you, curled up into your arm.You feel your face redden, but you allow your mind to wander further. Chest pressed against chest, fingers intertwining. Lips sucking at your neck. Your bring a hand to your neck and rub the places you imagine his lips would be. Hip bones pressed against one another, jutting sharply, but you don’t mind. Running a hand down his back, laying a hand in his kitten-soft hair.

The beeping of your PDA interrupts the fantasy and you open your eyes in agitation, pulling your mind away from the images that had been forming. You quickly note the messenger is Rose before answering huffly.

~tentacleTherapist has begun pestering turntechGodhead~

TT: I don’t mean to interrupt your movie time with Karkat.

TT: Unless the movie’s over, then it’s extremely urgent.

TT: I need you to ask Karkat if he knows something.

TT: He is not answering my messages.

TT: Dave?

TT: Dave.

TT: Dave.

TT: Dave fucking Strider.

TT: This is of utmost importance.

TT: I will spam you until you answer.

TT: Are you finally making out with Karkat?

TT: Your dreams have come true.

TT: But this is more important.

TT: Dave answer your god damn PDA Harley gave us these for a reason.

TT: I will tell Roxy you had an obsessive crush on her.

TT: I will tell Dirk you want to screw Karkat.

TT: Dave the spamming is about to start.

TT: Dave.

TT: Dave.

TT: Dave.

TT: Dave.

TT: Can you feel me?

TT: Dave.

TT: Dave.

TG: god damn it woman i cant close my eyes for five fucking minutes

TG: what do you want

TT: You sound agitated.

TG: i cant hide it from you can i

TT: You can’t, and your efforts otherwise are fruitless.

TT: Dave, I need you to ask Karkat something. Now.

TG: what is so important that you interrupt my almost wey dream of me making out with karkat

TT: If you’re all hot and bothered then this is awkward.

TT: But please ask Karkat if he knows a girl named Kanaya.

TT: He might answer to you.

TG: um

TG: why

TT: Dave fucking Strider.

TG: okay god woman calm the fuck down

TG: im doing it im doing it

TG: wait

TG: kanaya

TG: that sounds familiar

TT: Yes?

TG: isnt that the name of the girl youve been sexting

TT: First off, I’m not sexting her.

TT: Secondly, why aren’t you asking Karkat yet?

TG: okay calm your fucking horses im doing it

TG: im doing it so hard

TT: Dave.

TG: okay fine

TG: bye

TT: Tell me his answer at once.

~tentacleTherapist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead~

You give a long sigh, rubbing your face again, and it feels weird with your absence of glasses. You switch tabs in pesterchum to talk to Karkat, wondering why Rose would possibly need to know if Karkat knew some girl.

~turntechGodhead has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist~

TG: are you awake

CG: WHY HELLO TO YOU TOO.

TG: why are you awake

CG: YOU JUST ASKED ME IF I AM AWAKE AND NOW YOU’RE FUCKING ASKING ME WHY.

CG: I HAVE BEEN STRUCK BY STRIDER LOGIC TODAY.

TG: okay well rose has a question to ask you

CG: I BLOCKED HER FOR A FUCKING REASON.

TG: she wants to know if you know a girl named kanaya

TG: karkat

TG: bro

TG: you there

TG: did i somehow piss you off

CG: how do you know who she is?

TG: um

TG: you okay

TG: youre talking in lowercase

CG: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW WHO SHE IS?

TG: i think rose is in lesbians with her

TG: roxy told me that at least today at dinner

CG: NO. NO WAY IT’S HER.

CG: SHE DOESN’T SPEAK HUMAN. HOW IS SHE TALKING TO ROSE?

TG: do i look like i know

TG: so is that a yes

CG: WHY DOES SHE NEED TO KNOW.

TG: i dont fucking know

TG: so its yes

CG: YES.

TG: great

CG: DAVE.

CG: WHY DO YOU NEED TO KNOW.

TG: how many times do i gotta say idk

CG: *WHY THE FUCK DO YOU NEED TO KNOW.*

CG: YOU BETTER FUCKING ASK ROSE AND TELL ME WHY YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT

TG: i love you too

CG: GO FUCK YOURSELF.

TG: i checked its impossible

CG: FUCK. YOU.

~turntechGodhead has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist~

~turntechGodhead has begun pestering tentacleTherapist~

TG: he said yes

TG: rose

TG: rose

TT: That fucking shit.

TG: wait what

TT: He fucking told one of his friends where he’s at. They’re coming for him now.

TG: motherfucking what

TG: are you high

TG: or drunk

TG: or both

TT: I’m serious. Dave. You need to tell your brother.

TG: whoa

TG: what

TG: why is everything going to shit today

TT: I got personally told by an alien she’s coming.

TG: i hope that wasnt a joke for me to enjoy

TT: No. No it wasn’t.

TG: so wait just a fucking second

TG: karkat betrayed us

TT: I wouldn’t exactly say betrayed since he’s not technically on our side.

TT: But he isn’t to be trusted anymore.

TT: Dave.

TT: Are you there?

TT: Dave?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roxy is queen and you are not allowed to say otherwise


	20. Chapter Twenty

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You sit in your nest, which is steadily becoming more and more uncomfortable for you. You tried sleeping on the human bed a few minutes ago, and now back on your nest, it just doesn’t feel the same. You curl up into a little ball, imagining as if it were slime like you used to do when you were younger. Those were happier memories, simpler times. Times where things weren’t so fucked up and bullshitty.

But even before your blood betrayed you, things had been fucked up. Terezi struck up a matespritship with Vriska, which as predicted, left you a quivering mess. The moirallegiance with you and Gamzee officially broke off only a couple of days later. Eridan attempted to engage you in a romance (you were unsure as to whether it was red or black) but you were too much of a mess to even consider it.  Kanaya had been killed accidentally a few days after and you were pretty sure you broke. But then she came back as a fucking rainbow drinker and somehow, everything became worse. Gamzee started a moirallegiance with Tavros that was rumored to be something more. Sollux was ignoring you. Your lusus had gone out and hadn’t come back in weeks.

And then one day, your race declared war. On this planet. This solar system. This galaxy. This godforsaken war which is what caused the highbloods to recruit every troll over the age of five sweeps, you included. That’s when you knew you fucked for good. You’d be under careful observation of highbloods. It was only a matter of time until someone found out of your mutancy.

And they did. Your eyes, as all troll eyes tended to do, became less and less black and more and more red. Some trolls already had their colored eyes from an earlier age-Eridan and Tavros had completely filled in their pigments-but thank god it took yours a while to do so. For a while, you managed to lie and get away with that your blood was like Aradia’s. Burgundy.

But one highblood eventually pointed out that your eyes were a few shades lighter by then, and proceeded to cut your palm against your will. Then your secret was out. You were viewed as a freak. And finally you were sent here.

You’re sure your eyes have most definitely lightened another thirty shades. They’re probably as red as those cherry red sours Jade and Jane like to bring in for you (in all honesty they don’t taste that bad, you can kind of see why Terezi enjoys it) and you suppose they’re done filling in by now. But you haven’t checked in a mirror. You don’t have a mirror to check them out in, anyways.

Right now you imagine if your friends could see you. When you were strapped into the pod to make way to a checkpoint to ensure they didn’t follow you, they’d all thought you’d be coming back. The highbloods waited until the last moment when the doors were sliding shut to tell them. The looks on their faces still haunt you. Still burn into your eyes.

Kanaya’s face of uncontrollable anger. Sollux’s had twisted unhealthily. Terezi’s grin had slowly turned into a bared snarl. Nepeta had burst into tears. Equius began sweating (more) profusely. Even Eridan’s face held disbelief.

The last words you heard still chilled you, as they dropped you off near the portalizer. The one that would take you instantly to the planet. The one that there was no way back. The blueblood that dropped you off told you that hopefully you’d die bloody. To rid your body of the taboo.

You’d swallowed. You’d nodded. And then you stepped into the portalizer.

The first two weeks on the planet were insufferable. Boring. Hot and humid. And sometimes terrifying. There had been little brown furred beasts with fluffy tails that hunted for nuts on the ground that sometimes freaked the fuck out of you when they suddenly went racing for a tree.

You’d eaten some of the leaves off the trees. They tasted terrible, but you’d rather not starve to death. Then Dave and the others found you and the rest...Well, the rest was history.

You think about the proximity between you and Dave. How close your lips could have been to touch his and engage in a matespritship. You wonder how soft his hair could be. He really enjoys rubbing yours because it’s soft. Maybe his hair is just as soft? You imagine your fingers running through the soft yellow-white strands. All those freckles on his face are distracting. You can’t think of many trolls who have them. Tavros has a few. Nepeta too. But you don’t see those two a lot, and you’re never in close enough range to actually get a good look at them. But practically nose to nose with Dave and they had looked adorable.

You feel a flash of guilt wave over you as you think these things. The looks on your friends faces. The betrayal. The betrayal of you falling for an enemy. You try to push these thoughts away, because frankly, they’re starting to get old. They’re not your friends any more. Not your alliance. Not your side of the war. You don’t even know why this war is happening.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted when the door flies open and you peek up, expecting to see Dirk standing there judging by the amount of force used to open the door. But standing there is not Dirk, but Dave. Your heart skips slightly, cliche as it sounds, and you manage a small smile as he strides over to you. His expression is unreadable. There’s no emotion. You open your mouth to say “Hello, Dave” when all of a sudden a strong fist knocks into your jaw and sends your neck back, your lower jaw hitting into your upper with a ‘snap.’

Shocked, you straighten yourself, a hand going up to the spot when he punches you again, this time in the cheek. Confusion, worry, anger, and a mix of mortification run through you as you’re knocked to the floor, looking up at Dave standing over you. A sputter of words are spilling out of your mouth.

“D-D-Dave...What...D-Dave--I--why--You hit--Dave--”

“Shut the fuck up,” He says, and his voice is dripping in fury. Your heart beats against your chest as he steps closer, his shadow and figure blocking the bright lights above. You’re so small compared to him, but now you just seem even smaller. He snatches you up by your shirt collar and brings a fist into your stomach. Pain shoots up to your chest.

“I trusted you,” His voice is filled, words are solid enough to tear through you, “And I fucking fell in love with your shitty ass.”

You can’t even muster a “Dave.”

You’re confused and scared and you want to cry. This is scarily similar to the highblood who jacked you up when they found your secret. But you can’t cry. You won’t.

Dave’s fist slams into your face, your stomach again, your chest, everywhere it can reach. He’s smaller than Dirk but surprisingly strong.  You flinch and take each one of his hits for a while. You don’t know why he’s punching you. You don’t know why he’s hurting you. So as he pauses to draw his fist back, your own fist flies up and hits him square in the jaw. You’re pretty sure you didn’t hit him that hard, but the shock of you hitting him at all sent him backwards. He fell over and you took a moment to scramble to your feet, every place where he punched you hurting. You want to cry so badly because you want to know why all of a sudden why one of your only friends (and possibly more) is hating you, abusing you. He’s lying on his back, and he doesn’t seem to want to get up. His glasses are on the floor next to him, sweat is plastering his hair to his forehead, and there are tears running down his cheeks.

You freeze. You’ve never seen him cry. Not really. But here he is, sobbing, chest rising and falling heavily as he glares up at you.

“Why?” His voice was solid before, but now it’s broken. Cracked. Hurt. “I trusted you. We trusted you.”

You finally start crying.

Betrayal hits you hard. That word coming from his mouth. You don’t even know what you did. Why you deserved this. But Dave does and he’s sobbing.

You drop to your feet and stare at him, the red-pink trails streaming.

“What are you talking bout?” You ask. Your voice is so human. You don’t feel alien anymore. It scares you.

Dave’s eyes harden and he glares up at you with so much fury you’re surprised you haven’t spontaneously combusted.

“Your friends. They’re coming for you. You told them.”

Everything freezes. The world, your heart, your soul, your mind.

What the fuck just happened?

~gallowsCalibrator has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist~

GC: K4RK4T

GC: 1 ONLY H4V3 4 SHORT T1M3 TO T4LK TO YOU, SOLLUX H4S ONLY M4N4G3D TO H4CK TH3 SYST3M T3MPOR4R1LY

GC: W3’R3 COM1NG FOR YOU

GC: >:]

 

~gallowsCalibrator has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist~

~tentacleTherapist has begun pestering grimAuxiliatrix~

TT: I need to know if this is a sincere theme or just a coincidental joke.

TT: Please say it’s the latter.

TT: I’ve been talking to you for months.

TT: The more I think about it, the more it seems a bit unlikely.

TT: I’ve talked to you for months. You seem pretty human to me.

TT: It would take a long time for you to learn English. Karkat is just now getting the hang of it.

TT: So please Kanaya.

TT: Be honest.

TT: Is this a joke.

GA:  I Assure You Its The Real Thing

TT: Well fuck.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

Dave calms down enough to sit up. You reach out at once, the familiar spark and urge you felt around Gamzee to calm him down racing through you. This wasn't a moirallegiance, but you can try. Dave feels your hand on his back and jerks away, face darkening.

“Don’t touch me,” He hisses, and you feel your heart pick up. No, no, no this can’t be happening. One of the only people who really trusted and cared for you has been broken away from you. You sit back on your knees, hand falling. You’re in shock. Everything has shattered around you like a fragile mirror and you were left to drown in the pieces.

You can’t even cry. It’s too awful to even think of conjuring up tears. The only thing you can do is sit there and try to remember how to breathe.

With a rattling breath you watch Dave get to his feet, movements stiff, head low. As if he was the one who was aching. As if he was the one who was beaten.

The door flies open again, and you hear a familiar voice scream “Dirk!” as the tall man entered the room, looking furious.

Terror shoots through you as he looks in your direction and crosses the room, one of the swords he always has carried in his hands.

“ _You!_ ” He shouts, and it echoes. You flinch, scrabbling backwards even faster than you were before, your shoulders hunched up to your ears as he lumbers over you. You back up into the wall, feeling just as cornered as you did on that day. Roxy is behind him, face angry as well, but it’s not directed towards you. The scarf usually wrapped tightly around her neck is loose and flapping behind her as she grabs Dirk’s forearm, but he’s much stronger than her. He yanks his arm from her and raises the sword above his head, and you know you’re going to die. You will die with Dave angry with you. Without really knowing what you did. Without explaining what you didn’t do.

Dave would never teach you how to use swords like he promised. Roxy was going to teach you another human language next week-French. Even John wasn’t so bad, with those computer games and kindness he showed you.

But it’s all over now.

You wait for the blade to slice down.

There’s a scream. And then nothing happens.

You open your eyes to see Roxy standing in front of you, hand raised, using all her strength to keep the blade from going down. It is an inch from her neck. Her hand is tightened around Dirk’s wrist. She risked her life for you.

Dirk loosens his grip around the sword and lets it drop to the ground. Roxy looks furious. Dave is right next to the bed, eyes wide in horror, glasses in hand. Rose and Jane are standing right in the doorway. Both of their eyes are trained on Dirk.

“You,” Dirk repeats, and if words could kill, you would’ve died, “You told your friends you were here. And now they’re coming.”

He backs away, fists curling up.

“You led the enemy here,” Dirk’s voice suddenly drops all anger. It’s flat.

Roxy turns to face you, but her expression isn’t of anger. It’s of curiosity.

“What happened?” She asks, and her words collide into each other, slurred. You’re unable to speak for a moment, a heavy lump forming in your throat. After a few minutes in which you realize that everyone is staring at you, you take a breath and spill out, “I don’t even know what going on. Dave beat up me.”

“Beat me up,” Jane quietly says, ever the ‘grammar Nazi.’

Roxy’s face softens, but her eyes are unfocused. It almost reminds you of Gamzee. Your heart stops for a second. Does all royalty in every planet let themselves go like that? But Rose is fairly okay, so maybe it was just an adult thing.

Dirk looks unbelieving of this statement, face set in a scowl.

“Check his PDA,” Dirk says, and Jane bends down to pick up your discarded Husktop. Heart hammering, you know the only thing they’ll find is your conversations with Dave, Roxy, and Rose. Jane turns it on, presses a few buttons. She shows the screen to Dirk. Dirk scrolls through the messages before shoving it in your face.

“Who’s the teal text?”

You swallow. It’s in the English language setting. You haven’t mastered it, but you recognize a few letters-and numbers. Your heart beat excellerates. You feel sick.

“Terezi,” You whisper.

Dirk pulls it away and continues scrolling before dropping it carelessly onto the bed.

“No messages from him, only to him,” Dirk’s shoulders are rigid, “How’d they find you?”

You shake your head, until an idea strikes you and you say, “Friend Sollux. He is a hacker.”

“And managed to get past the security mom set up?” Rose speaks up, a slight look of awe on her face, “I’m impressed. I’ll have to meet him.”

“Nobody,” Dirk’s voice is dangerously calm, “Is meeting anybody. They’re evil. They’re the ene-”

“SHUT UP!” Roxy roars, her words a bit clearer. Her face is twisted in rage, “Shut up, Strider! They’re not all evil! Just because their race has declared war, doesn’t mean his friends are evil!”

Dirk stares at her in shock.

“If Karkat’s friends are _anything_ like him,” Roxy points at you, face inches from Dirk’s, “ _I wanna meet ‘em_.”

There’s a shocked silence, stretching on and on, until Dirk turns on his heel and stomps away.

“Stop being an assmunch, Dirk,” Roxy calls after him. Dave is staring straight at you, posture slumped. He takes a step forward, and you flinch. The guilt in his face is obvious.

“Bro, I’m sorry,” Dave says, and his voice cracks. You shake your head, hand rising up to your jaw. There’s already a small bump there. You’re still aching.

“Guys, let’s…” Roxy blinks a couple of seconds before saying. “Let’s watch a movie or somethin’...”

“At three in the morning?” Jane’s face twists distastefully, “No thanks.”

“I’m going to bed,” Rose says, but judging by the look on her face, no, she’s not. She’s going to lie awake all night.

Everybody drifts off, save Dave, leaving you alone with him. You get to your feet, keeping your eyes on the floor, and shuffle over to your nest, but a pair of strong arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest. Dave runs his fingers through hair softly in apology, and you take a few heaving breaths. You hurt all over. Inside and outside.

You just want to go to sleep.

You pull away from him, climbing onto the bed. You’re going to give the human nest another try. Dave climbs after you, and you stiffen slightly as he joins you under the covers. But he’s facing the other way, on the other side of the bed. You stare at the back of his head, body feeling heavy.

“Dave?”

He turns over nearly at once to face you. His sunglasses are still off. He smiles at you.

It’s weak and crooked and a pathetic attempt at an apology. You feel as if he has beaten you for no reason, without getting your side of the story first. He jumped to conclusions, nasty conclusions, and for this you can’t help but call him stupid.

But now he knows you didn’t contact them, and he’s forgiven you. But can you really forgive him that easily?

 _Yes,_ you think as Dave wraps an arm around your shoulders, pressing you into his warmth, in a familial way, _I can._


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

~grimAuxiliatrix has begun pestering tentacleTherapist~

GA: Rose

GA: You Have Not Pestered Me In A While And I Am Growing Concerned

GA: We Are Still Friends Arent We

GA: Rose

GA: Rose I Hate To Be A Bother

TT: Kanaya.

TT: Can you just, um.

TT: Not?

GA: What

TT: Well shit has hit the fan and right now I am not in the mood to talk to you.

GA: Was It Something I Said

TT: It was more like what you didn’t say.

TT: Like ‘Rose By The Way Im An Alien!’

GA: Oh

GA: I Sincerely Apologize For That

TT: I’m afraid an apology is not going to cut it.

TT: I’ve been chatting with you oh-so-casually for a few months and boom out of nowhere, you drop the bomb that you are in fact an alien searching for her friend.

TT: Are we even friends at all or is this just a front you up to get to me?

GA: Rose

GA: Rose I Assure You That You Are Indeed My Friend

GA: In Fact

GA: You May Be One Of The Bestest Friends I Have Ever Had

GA: You Are Very Intelligent And Not At All Painful To Talk Too

GA: Unlike

GA: Other People

TT: Kanaya, I’m sorry but.

TT: I don’t believe you.

GA: Fuck

GA: Why Not

TT: Wait. Wait a minute. I have an idea.

TT: Talk to you in a minute.

GA: Rose

GA: What Are You Doing

~tentacleTherapist has ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix~

~tentacleTherapist opened memo on BETA.~

TT: Guys.

TT: I have created this to be less confusion as to what is going on.

~grimAuxiliatrix responded to memo 3: 49 A.M.~

GA: What Is This

GA: Explain

TT: It’s so everyone else can respond, I’ve managed to tap into the data to allow you and others to respond to the memo.

GA: So

GA: Anybody Could Read This

TT: Yes.

GA: On Both My End And Your End

TT: It was difficult but after our security was breached once it was weakened significantly enough to allow passage.

~turntechGodhead responded to memo 3: 52 A.M.~

TG: karkat fucking snores up a storm in here like hurricane katrina

GA: Oh

GA: Hello

TG: im assuming your the alien chic well hello and welcome to planet fucking earth

GA: Thank You

GA: I Guess

TT: Strider.

TG: yeah

TT: Be nice.

TG: i am being nice

TG: there is just no way i will be able to sleep with karkat snoring so loudly like fuck this isnt even cute

TT: Why are you sleeping with Karkat?

TG: um

TG: about that

GA: Wait You Are Sleeping With Karkat?

TT: We are getting off topic here.

TG: what is even the topic

~ectoBiologist responded to memo 3: 58 A.M.~

EB: hi guys!

GA: Another Human

EB: nice to meet you too!

GA: Yes

TT: I want to get everybody on board here.

TT: We are not probing Kanaya for intel.

TG: aw man

EB: dave, no.

~tipsyGnostalgic responded to memo 4: 02 A.M.~

TG: it is way 2 early 4 dis

TG: i stifl havse a hangoveer

GA: What Is A Hangover

TT: I suddenly realize this is a terrible, terrible idea.

EB: what? i think it’s great!

TG: john u r not thw one agt four am with a hangober

EB: true.

~gutsyGumshoe responded to memo 4: 03 A.M.~

GG: Guys!! What are you doing up so late?

TT: Why are you up so late.

GG: Good point. :B

GG: To be quite honest, I was beginning to get a little bored in my room. Everything exciting is suddenly happening!

GA: How Many Humans Are There

GG: Oh my gosh, Rose! Is this that girl you’ve been talking to?

TG: (the girl shes in lesbians with)

TT: Strider, I will ban you.

TT: Yes, she is.

GA: What Is Lesbians

GG: Oh dear.

GG: We don’t need to explain that one do we?

TG: it iz basiculyy a beautiful thing of love btween girlsz

GA: Um

GA: Okay

EB: you sure don’t know a lot about human culture from what i can tell!

TG: you guys should see karkat right now he is so fucking adorable

GG: To be honest Dave I don’t think anybody cares.

~golgothasTerror responded to memo 4: 11 A.M~

GT: Goodness gracious jane what are you doing up late!

TT: Why is everybody asking that when you are all obviously up anyways?

GG: I’m starting to wonder that too.

GA: Rose

GA: I Am Confused As To What Is Going On

TG: me 2 gurl

TG: he snorts whenever he turns over isnt that cute

TT: God damn it Strider.

GT: Whom are you referring to, karkat?

GT: He is not really quite the chipper chap if i do say so myself.

GA: This Human

GA: I Like Their Speech

GT: Why thank you milady!

GG: Oh my god.

EB: guys my pda is lagging so much because of this.

TG: join da club

~arachnidsGrip responded to memo 4: 19 A.M.~

GA: Oh No

AG: Oh yes!!!!!!!!

AG: I saw someone had managed to hack into the control center and actually 8reak into the system and allowing me into the memo!

AG: So thanks for that. ::::D

GA: Oh My God

EB: hello!

AG: Oh hi John!

EB: hi random person!

EB: wait how do you know my name?

TT: How many people are going to respond to this memo dear god.

GT: This was truly not the most remarkable decision.

TG: the spam i am telling you

GG: My PDA keeps freezing as well!

AG: I just know a lot of things, John.

GA: Yes Like Do You Know You Are About To Stop Replying To This Memo

AG: Hm, doesn’t ring a 8ell!

EB: wait who is this!

AG: The leader, o8viously!

AG: My name is Vriska.

EB: that’s a really pretty name!

AG: Thank you!

TG: the flirteng is 2 cute i am going 2 die but cane we discuss what wde came here 4

GT: Yes and why my pda keeps buzzing at such an ungodly hour!

TT: I am surprise Jade has not been woken up by all the buzzing.

TT: But then again she can sleep through a hurricane. 

TG: preach it

AG: Anyways, losers, I saw you opened up a memo! 

AG: Such a Karkat thing to do. Has he ru88ed off on you?

TG: what the hell is that supposed to mean 

GA: I Think You Should Really Go Help Terezi Out With The Transportation 

EB: wait this is one of your alien friends! 

AG: O8viously, John, pay attention! 

GG: Vriska? Terezi? Kanaya? 

GT: They are all splendid names!

GG: Um, sure they are! 

GG: I love them!

EB: me too! 

AG: You 8etter! ::::D 

TT: This was such a terrible idea. 

TT: What made me think anything good could come out of this. 

 

~carcinoGeneticist responded to memo 4: 32 A.M.~

 

CG: AS FAR AS I CAN TELL THIS MEMO IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING **POINTLESS**.

AG: Why hello Karkat. Still as cra88y as ever.

CG: VRISKA

CG: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE.

TG: holy shit man youre awake 

CG: I’VE BEEN AWAKE THE PAST TEN MINUTES. 

GA: Hello Karkat 

CG: HELLO KANAYA. 

CG: UM. THIS IS AWKWARD. 

CG: WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY? 

EB: i missed you? 

CG: FUCK NO. THAT SOUNDS LIKE SOME OF THE SAPPY SHIT THEY SAY IN YOUR FUCKING GOD DAMN MOVIES.

TG: i didnt even notice you were awake what the hell 

TT: Strider! 

AG: You guys are all 8eing so 8oring! Doesn’t this memo have a point???????? 

TT: You’re right, it does, but I think we completely lost it during the conversation.

 GG: So Miss Vriska. 

GG: What is it like to live as you?

AG: Tons of fun of course.

GT: I do hope so!

TG: yall this have been greats and all but 1 gtg to sleep ok 

TT: You know what.

TT: Screw this. 

TT: We’ll all talk in person. 

AG: Rose. Wait!

  
~tentacleTherapist has shut down the memo~


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

~tipsyGnostalgic has begun pestering carcinoGeneticist~

TG: hey

TG: nubby horns

TG: shouty mcnubby horns

TG: karkat

TG: fe fi fo karkat

TG: god damn it answer me

CG: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT.

TG: and so he lives

TG: so yeah i am totally sober now

CG: OH THAT'S JUST FAN FUCKING TASTIC.

CG: MUSIC TO MY EARHOLES.

CG: I APPLAUD YOU.

TG: wait really

CG: NO.

TG: aw and i thought u were actually being nice 2 moi

TG: :(

CG: GET YOUR SAD EMOTICON BULLSHIT AWAY FROM ME.

CG: YOUR HIGHNESS.

CG: PLEASE.

TG: whoa the man said please

CG: YOU ARE SO MUCH LIKE DAVE IT'S FREAKING ME OUT.

TG: only when im sober hun ;)

CG: GET YOUR WINKY EMOTICON AWAY FROM ME AS WELL.

TG: what do you have against emojis

CG: EVERYTHING.

TG: fair enough okay

CG: SO WHY ARE YOU MESSAGING ME AT FIVE IN THE MORNING.

CG: THIS HAS LITERALLY GOT TO BE THE LONGEST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS OF MY LIFE.

CG: AND THAT MEMO DID NOT HELP EITHER.

TG: speaking of memos i wanna open one up now

TG: i wanna meet all ur friends!

CG: NO.

CG: DON'T DO IT.

TG: im gonna do it

CG: DON'T. YOU. FUCKING. DARE.

TG: im doing it

~tipsyGnostalgic has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist~

You groan and throw your Husktop on the floor in front of you. Dave had fallen asleep a couple of minutes ago and was snoring gently behind you, and, unable to sleep, you had slid to the floor to look at all those messages your friends sent you months ago. And, to be honest, that bed was uncomfortable as hell. And now, her Royal Stupidness was going to open a new memo for your friends to join and go damn it you want to talk to them so badly but at the same time you just kind of want to curl up into a ball and wait for the world to end. Especially Kanaya and Terezi, you're dreading speaking personally to both of them. Your Husktop buzzes and you groan, allowing your eyes to flit down to the screen.

~tipsyGnostalgic opened memo on BFFSYS~

TG: sup peoples

TG: i am queen roxy

TG: this is like

TG: a thing for yall to talk to mr. nubby horns shouty pants and stuff

TG: i opened up the network for ya

TG: because i am just that awesome at computers n stuff

~arachnidsGrip responded to memo 5: 12 A.M.~

 AG: A8out time!

TG: oh sweet i like u

TG: you were funny

AG: Why thank you! :::;)

AG: Where's John?

TG: idk

~twinArmageddons responded to memo 5: 15 A.M.~

TA: ju2t 2o you know tavro2 ju2t pa22ed out on the floor

TG: hey wassup new guy

AG: 8oy Skylark can't fucking do anything without me.

AG: I leave for five seconds and he's already passed out.

AG: D::::

TG: sounds like ur havin a rough time i feel u

~centaursTesticle responded to memo 5:17 A.M~

CT: D --> With the e%ception of tavros i think we will be ready for the humans in eight hours

TG: dude

TG: that username

TG: 10/10

AG: So judging 8y your text are you royalty or something?

TG: haha y do all u aliens think that lmfao

TG: yep

TG: i am the queen

CT: D --> Oh dear

CT: D --> I need a towel

AG: Equius shut the fuck up and 8e normal for once.

TA: guy2 where'2 feferii. 2he wa2 2uppo2ed two meet me an hour ago.

AG: No one cares.

CT: D -->  I have not seen her

TG: omg this is so great

TG: watchin yall talk to one another is just like omfg

TG: tell me about urselves 

TA: we are a bunch of alien2 that do 2hiit.

AG: That's over-simplifying things!

~caligusAquarium responded to memo 5: 22 A.M.~

CA: sol shut the fuck up for a second and tell me somethin

TA: what a niice way to greet me you a22hole.

AG: Eridan, get out! This chat was going 8y so well! >::::(

CA: no

CT: D --> I believe he is permitted to do whatever he wants

CA: ^

TG: this just got interesting

CA: she royalty too

TG: why yes i am the queen of the universe

AG: Pretty sure not the whole universe.

TG: lol you got me just queen of my world

TA: what the hell diid you want anyway2 can't you 2ee ii'm bu2y.

CA: no youre not

AG: You guys are turning the whole room 8lack with your pointless arguing.

TG: what

TG: thats racist :(

TG: and i was actually starting to rly rly like you

AG: How is racist?

TG: um

CA: wwere not black

AG: Well you sure as hell ain't flushed.

TG: queen is confused

CT: D --> Do you not have a concept of romance on your planet

TG: romance!

TG: that is what u guys are talkin about??

CT: D --> Yes queen

TG: i am rly likin this queen biz

AG: Uh oh. We've all got to go!

CT: D --> Shameful I was hoping to talk a little more to the queen

TA: thank fuckiing god 2o ii can go kick your a22 you nook2hiit.

CA: sol i am prepared to wwipe you from existence

AG: Yeah sure, definitely not 8lack.

TG: idk wats going on here but yall have fun okay

~tipsyGnostalgic closed memo at 5: 42 A.M.~ 

You roll your eyes and fling your Husktop to the far corner of the room, rubbing your temples roughly. Oh fuck, they were actually coming here and oh fuck it wasn't just a dream. You turn your head to glance at Dave who has his own Husktop on top of his face where it dropped when he fell asleep, a thin trail of drool leaking out of his mouth.

Oh god.

What the fuck was going to happen?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~aspiringExtermination began pestering ao3Reader~
> 
> AE: There was supposed to be gay kuddle kkissing by the end of this khapter but I was already pushing the limits with trying to type kusswords behind the teakher's back. Yes I wrote this in skhool. MWAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA fear me. :))
> 
> ~aspiringExtermination ceased pestering ao3Reader~


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rises from the depths of hell* Hey hows it goin'

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

 

* * *

 

You never thought you’d see them again.

You and Dave were in the field, playing a game in which involved a lot of hitting one another with sticks, when several figures stumbled out of the forest. At first, the air is tense, frozen, but as the figures race forward with a jolt you recognize their faces-Kanaya, Terezi, Equius, Sollux, all of your friends, rushing towards you. Dave drops his stick, mouth open in surprise, and there were shouts from the base.

You had only taken a few steps forward when Kanaya is wrapping her arms around you, Terezi reaching over to pinch your cheek and the rest catching up with them. Everything felt ethereal, like it wasn’t really there, and you have to pull at your ears to make sure this all wasn’t some vivid dream.

“Holy fuck,” You say, still unbelieving, still feeling like this must have been too good of a dream, “Holy fuck are you...Are you really here?”

It takes Kanaya a moment to answer in the human language.

“Yes,” She says slowly, pulling away from you. She’s trying to look serious but her mouth is twitching. “Yes, we are here. And...We’re here for you.”

“Hehehehe, you can’t expect us to just, like, not come here to save you,” Terezi’s still pinching your cheek, “Best friends, Karkat. Best friends.”

“Holy shit dude,” You hear Dave breathe behind you, and they’re still shouting at base, still screaming for the others to come take a look at this, the aliens have arrived.

Dave is repeating his words over and over again, approaching your friends slowly, and you are unsure whether or not to burst into tears or punch a wall. Perhaps both. But your lungs are burning and there’s a smile on your face that is pulling at your thudding heart because this is real.

“Hey Kar,” Eridan’s voice says, and you turn to see the taller standing there, his grasp on the human language a bit shabby, words coming out a bit stilted in that funny voice Jake had, and your smile widens even more at the sight of your close friend.

Dirk is racing towards all of you, and in a moment, everything turns tense. The chatter of voices, some flowing easily with the human language and others struggling, ceased. Every pair of eyes seemed to be trained on Dirk’s form, Jake and Roxy following closely behind. You’re slightly relieved at the sight of Roxy running almost as fast as Dirk, right on his heel, eye swide and a gigantic smile that looks almost maniacal plastered to her face. A second later, she bursts ahead in speed and shoves Dirk away, laughing loudly.

“Hollllllly crap!” She shouts, and makes a grab for the nearest one of your friends-thankfully, Nepeta, who was less likely to turn to violence, and lifts her into the air, eyes scanning and examining before giggling and hugging the meowbeast-lover. Nepeta giggled back, and Roxy seemed ecstatic, like she was once again on that alcoholic drink Jane told you about. The tense air loosens slightly before spiking up again, Dirk catching up to all of you.

You plant your feet firmly, standing in front of the others, and you’re not surprised when you feel Dave’s shoulder brush against yours, him standing at your side, looking up to meet Dirk’s gaze which was hidden by his glasses. Roxy sets Nepeta down carefully, and a split second later she’s in front of the both of you, drawing herself up to her full height, only a couple of inches shorter than Dirk.

“They’re friendly,” Roxy says when nobody speaks for several long, dragging minutes, “They haven’t attacked anybody yet and nobody’s shouting. They mean no harm, Dirk.”

Dirk is silent.

“And if you wanna hurt ‘em,” Roxy cocks her head to the side, and there’s almost a playfully dangerous smile on her lips, “You gotta go through-”

“Roxy,” Dirk says, tone flat, expression unreadable, “Are you going to let me say hello to them or not?”

The silence is roaring.

Your jaw drops open at the sudden plot twist, eyes widening, but you hear Dave give a slight chuckle next to you that breaks the silence. All eyes are trained on him, and Dave’s chuckling turns into a full blown laugh, bending over and clutching his sides, tears streaming from underneath his shades.You don’t understand what’s so funny, but all you can focus on is the tightening in your chest is loosening and Terezi has joined in the giggling, though there’s an unusual undertone of nervousness you’ve rarely heard before.

Roxy is slightly shocked as well, judging by the look on her face, but steps aside at once, allowing Dirk to walk past her and approach you and your friends.

It’s extremely awkward, with everybody being unusually silent and Dirk towering over all of you, but after a harsh minute Dirk slowly gets down onto one knee so he’s eye-level with all of you, not as intimidating anymore.

“Hey.” Was the only thing he said. Dave’s laughter ceased and Terezi’s giggling remained, though now it sounded a bit more sincere. The gray sky above and the vibrant green grass below seems to be mocking you somehow. The sky is seemingly dead but the grass is full of life. Everybody dear to you is standing here but the silence is heavy.

Finally, it’s Sollux that breaks the silence.

“Oh look, another asshole.”

Nobody laughs at first, but it’s when Dirk snickers that Terezi’s giggling turns into full on laughter and Dave joins in. The others do as well, though it’s mostly nervous and it quickly fades into soft chatter and exchanges of words. You feel yourself relax, and you lean against Dave, throat not working right and a consuming exhaustion from the tension washing over you. Nothing has really happened yet and this is still the most stuffy moment of your short and miserable life.

“Looks like we’re all cool,” Dave tells you in a quiet voice that is unheard by the others, as the talking grows louder, and Terezi’s laughter is still ongoing, “We’re all cool, buddy, we’re all super fucking cool.”

You laugh as well, though it’s short and breathy and lasts only a second. You’re just relieved that nobody has killed anybody yet.

That maybe things could possibly work out.

Somehow, some way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d never thought you’d actually see them.

Karkat’s friends.

For a while, even after you learned that they were coming, they seemed ethereal, fake, like characters from a story book. They didn’t seem real, like they actually existed, and breathed, and had relationships just like you and everybody else in the base. It was only watching them cross the field to where you and Karkat stood did it hit you like a train, that holy fuck, yes they were real and they were coming right towards you.

Even hearing them talk and laugh and watching them walk slowly towards the base with you seemed like something foggy, perhaps a dream, and you were the only one aware that it was a dream. The only thing that really told you it was real was the familiar warmth of Karkat pressed into your side, though that soon faded when he walked over to his friends to exchange greetings you felt like you should not be a part of. That they were private and Karkat has not seen them for months. He should probably be alone.

But no sooner had you come to his conclusion that Karkat is leading his friends towards you, and he’s grabbing the end of your sleeve, tugging you forward. He looks adorable, with his eyes wide with excitement that he’s trying to hide, head cocked to the side, fluffy kitten-fur hair somehow defying gravity and standing up on end.

“Dave,” He says, letting go of your sleeve only to wrap his fingers carefully around your wrist, “This is Dave….”

There’s silence, until a few voices mumbles, “Hello, Dave.”

You smile.

It reminds you of Karkat.

“And…” Karkat suddenly seems a bit nervous, voice rising higher in pitch and louder, “This is the Queen.”

Roxy’s trying to contain her laughter. You snicker. Dirk seems indifferent to the whole situation but you’ve lived with him long enough to tell that he is much more relaxed than he was earlier. Rose is watching the group from afar, and you turn to look at her. Her eyes travel to meet your own, and she takes a few steps forward, but for some reason she’s silent and unresponding.

John and Jade, however, are a different story.

“Hi guys!” John says brightly, and you want to slap the kid for being such a damn enthusiastic ray of bright sunshine all the time, “I’m Jo-”

“John!” A voice says, and a girl sweeps forward, an air of confidence about her that reminds you of rich kids at school who wore their reputations and pride on their sleeves. Some of them were rude little shits and some of them were nice. Some of them were in between.

You couldn’t tell which one this girl was.

“This is John, everybody,” The girl says, spinning on her heel to face the others. Her English is a bit more well-developed than some of the others, like the girl with vampire fangs and the taller, buff-looking guy. John looks shocked at being introduced by a complete stranger, but it quickly fades away as he beams again. Jade is already chattering away to a girl with long flowing black hair and strange ears that she seems to only share with one of the taller in the group, who had a strange purple streak in his hair.

The talking is everywhere, and it’s hard to tell one conversation from another, but you break away from the group and head towards Rose, who’s still standing near the couch.

The guards in the room watch you and the others, tense, not nearly as relaxed as Dirk is, hands near their weapons in case it was necessary. Rose shifts her weight awkwardly, and when you come up to meet her, she averts her gaze.

“Yo,” You say, but when she doesn’t respond, you plunge on, “Look, I understand this is probably like, hella fucking weird for you. You talked to an alien girl for a long time without knowing who she really was and suddenly she’s just standing here. Like it’s a dream that actually came true, but it doesn’t feel like it did. It still feels fake.”

Rose says nothing.

“And yeah, it feels that way for me too,” You continue, “I mean, I’ve grown so used to Karkat, it’s just like he’s another human. Another friend of mine I’ve grown up with. But all his friends show up and it’s like holy crap there’s more, it’s like two rabbits mated and now you gotta deal with all the babes.”

You wait a second in case Rose wants to say something, but she doesn't, so you plow on.

"I don't know what's up with you, but I can guess. I'm not gonna force you to tell me. But I'm pretty sure this Kanaya girl wants to be your best fucking friend too," You finish.

There's a moment of silence before Rose throws her arms around you.

"I know, Dave," You pretend you don't hear her sniffle, "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~aspiringExtermination has begun pestering ao3Reader~
> 
> AE: Sorry dudes and dudettes for bein unable to update lately! BUT IM ALIVE SO YAY! Also, rushed chapter is rushed and sucks. Sorry. :((


	25. Twenty-Five

Contrast: the state of being strikingly different from something else.

"To be in contrast is to not run with the crowd. Not until someone comes along, takes your hand, and says, 'Come with me.' You have to wait for that moment. Until then, you are in contrast."

-Unknown

* * *

 Three days pass, without incident. You don’t know how long they are going to stay here, or exactly why, but Karkat seems happy, and really, that’s good enough for you. It helps that the trolls’ English was improving every minutes they spent with you and your friends, and you could understand them better. Something they seemed to catch from Karkat was the habit of saying ‘Hello, _____’ when entering or leaving a room, even in the middle of discussion.

It was only cute when Karkat did it, you find yourself thinking.

You rather like Karkat’s friends, some more than others.

Of course, Terezi is hilarious. She wears those weird red glasses and makes the most morbid jokes, but in a way, you find her endearing. The kid with the lisp, Sollux, is a blast too. He might be bipolar, or whatever, but he seemed to find a slight interest in your computer and turntables, and any guy cool with that, you were cool with, too. Eridan was okay. He was a bit...Eh. The others, you didn’t mind, but those three, you had to say you liked them best out of the others.

Kanaya stuck to Rose like glue, and Rose seemed a bit...Weird about it? She avoided Kanaya, did not talk to her, hardly ever made eye contact. It was starting to make you feel a bit upset, for whatever reason.

“Rose, what’s going on with you?” You asked her once, just before dinner, but she hastily ducked underneath your outstretched arm and began to help Jane set the table.

Surprisingly, the rest of the adults (or, a majority, at least) seemed to take to the troll's presence rather well. You were shocked by this fact, as you were sure Jade and John were, but the three of you decided not to question it.

As long as everyone got along.

* * *

 Dave was like a saint. Honestly. With your friends, finally here, reminding you this isn’t just one of your lucid dreams, and Dave there, acting like the lifeline he was unaware he was, you finally felt...At peace.

At peace with what? You spent long hours wondering this, lying awake in the room you now shared with Eridan, Gamzee, Equius, Sollux, and Tavros. At peace with your friends? This planet? Your mutant blood color?

The sense of tranquility bothered you. The feeling was wonderful, but the lingering question of what you were at peace at, what burden seemed to be lifted from your shoulders, was what made you feel heavy again. You wondered if, perhaps, you were complete now-you had your friends, your friends whom you loved more than you would ever admit, were a puzzle piece that fit just perfectly into the empty spot, the thing that finally finished you.

You were terrified when you woke up the next morning, because your dreams had been peaceful, happy, and you were expecting something horrible to be awaiting you as soon as your eyes fluttered open.

But that didn’t happen.

You were peacefully asleep, with your friends, and you were still in the base, with your friends, and you were still alive, as were your friends.

Dave seemed to notice the slight change in you, bringing a hand to ruffle your hair occasionally.

“What’s up, Karkles?”

You’d hiss at him for the nickname, and he’d laugh, and then he’d tell you that he wanted to watch a movie with you that night. Or play a board game. Or something.

Dave wanted to be with you.

And only you.

You just didn’t understand any of it.

The things he’d do-rub your hair, give you small hugs, care generally for your well being, hinted at the pale quadrant. However, when he held your hand when you were terrified, or seemed to purr with you as well, and even once gave you a small kiss on your forehead, was leaning into the flushed quadrant.

You were a confused mess.

But everything seemed to be horrible on the third day of your friends’ arrival. Harley had called in each of your friends into his office area, and you sat, terrified, on the couch, feeling your heartbeat race at a million miles an hour. Of course. It had been too good to be true. He was going to kill your friends.

 _Calm down_ , you told yourself silently, the voice inside your head calm but the rest of you utterly panicked, fists clenching and unclenching, sweating heavily. _That’s not going to happen. It’s not_.

Dave doesn’t know what’s wrong with you, and neither do Jake, or John, or Roxy, or anybody who approached you while you were on that couch.

You don’t know why the memory resurfaces, but the images of your stomach being split open to reveal intestine haunts your mind’s eye, shivering as imaginary cold hands held you down and the tip of a blade was pressed into your skin. You reach up, sliding your hands into your hair shakily, fingernails scraping against your scalp, and the shivering continues.

What are they doing to your friends? What kind of horrible things are they doing? You would never be able to live with yourself if Sollux or Nepeta or Feferi had to go through any of the things you did on that operating table, to be haunted with the livid nightmares that tormented you each time you closed your eyes.

 _Calm down, don’t think of that_ , the voice inside your head whines, and your hands slowly slip out of your hair, lowering to grip the bottom of your sweater. The others have avoided you on the couch, and you don’t know why, but do you really care? Were you really the only one wondering if your friends were suffering through something awful right now?

_Stop stop stop, don’t think about that….Stop stop stop…_

It’s only when your friends step out of Harley’s office, completely safe and sound, unscratched, that you begin crying, tears of salmon-pink running down your face. The humans looked shocked at your tear color, and Dave hardly responds to it. Your wall has collapsed.

The old you would have never cried in front of them, would give them a snarky comment to disguise the fact that you’re relieved they’re just fine, they’re okay.

The old you was broken.

The old you was in a box, packed away somewhere, possibly to never be opened again.

The new you broke down easily, in constant need of a repair that would never come, awaiting the warm hands of someone who seemed light years away. The new you faced nightmares every night, and even during the day, you thought it was all unreal, something horrible.

The new you needed Dave Strider, because Dave Strider was the one good link from those horrible, horrible first days here. And Dave Strider was the one who was most okay with your friends, and Dave Strider shared your blood color, and Dave Strider was just like you.

Roxy Lalonde. You need her too, because Roxy was royalty, and Roxy reminded you of Feferi-royalty, but willing to befriend low-bloods such as yourself and Dave, and your friends.

But, you realize, what you might need, is humans. Because these humans seem less harsher than your own people were, more kinder than they could ever be.

And as your friends stare at you in shock as you break down, shattering like a mirror, you think that for now, you’ll stick with a Dave Strider.

Because a Dave Strider just reached over and grabbed your hand gently, reminding you that you’re here, and your friends are okay, and that you’re okay, and that everything is okay.

Maybe all you need is a Dave Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was editing, accidentally removed this chapter, realizing this was an okay ending for a fic I will never repeat, clicked the back button so I was taken back to the technically non existing page, copy and pasted, reposted, and now the fic is complete.
> 
> yay.
> 
> will beta this fic...eventually. might take it down one day, edit it, and then repost it.


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